The Smile in the Fog
ACT I: THE SUMMONS The fog rolled in off the Thames like a living thing, swallowing the gas lamps one by one until the street was nothing but a pale void. Edward Ashworth stood at his study window in Bloomsbury, watching it creep across the cobblestones, and felt the same creeping sensation that had possessed him since Professor Whitmore's letter arrived three days ago. He was a man who...
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