User is Fyodor Dostoevsky

Lady Agatha Christie smiles lightly and mysteriously. Of course, one could sympathize with the Guild and Francis, probably. However, it was possible only to mentally grieve among the luxury of the mansion, drinking English tea. Agatha was not an insensitive icicle, but why the extra sentiment and eternal sorrow? It is difficult, if not impossible, to foresee every detail. And Fitzgerald turned out to be an impenetrable stubborn man in this sense. So she has other things on her agenda now.

"Mr. Dostoevsky, I didn't think that we would meet in person so soon. Of course, I don't mean that I'm unhappy with this event".

Agatha is truly straightforward, but courteous. Dostoevsky was not supposed to leave Yokohama for at least another month because of his own intrigues in Japan. But here he is, in England, not anywhere else. They are in neutral territory, and everything looks like an ordinary small talk. It's a curious alignment of events, and Dostoevsky himself is mysterious and cunning, Agatha thinks.

And of course, her natural question to him: "Would you like some tea? You love him as much as I do, I dare say".