Arthur's deerskin gloves gently brushed over the copper-rimmed edge of the table, and the warmth of the stove turned the sweat beads at his temples into grains of salt. As Shubinsky adjusted the Persian velvet cushion for the third time, he suddenly sighed.
"When I visited your home last Sunday, I felt that your son is truly a talented young man. His recitation of 'Faust' reminded me of the scholars in the poplar woods of the University of Göttingen. Such an outstanding young man should naturally study at a top university like Göttingen in all of Europe, where he could pursue a degree in philosophy, law, medicine, or theology. I'm confident that, whichever field he chooses, he will eventually achieve great success. However, this promising young man, due to the Tsar's decree, can only attend Moscow University or St. Petersburg University. It's truly regrettable."
