The Christmas Spirit
ACT I: THE SPARK The fog on the Thames did not roll in that December of 1843 so much as it descended, a heavy grey blanket smothering London's eastern docks. Thomas Grime knew every alley, every doorway, every shadowed recess of Wapping. At twenty-eight he had worn better clothes, worked better hours, and loved better people. Now he wore nothing but damp wool and the memory of his wife's face,...
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