The Pearl in the Dark
The fog clung to the rooftops of York shire like a shroud, thick and yellow with the smoke of a thousand chimneys. In the narrow alley behind Blackwood Lane, where the cobblestones never dried and the rats grew fat on refuse, there stood a cottage so small it seemed to apologize for its existence. Inside lived Edward Hargrave and his mother, Mrs. Hargrave, and the cottage had one room, a...
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