VI. THE CANDLE THAT BURNS THE CANDLESTICK

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2026-05-27 10:39:32 -

The candle was silver-white. Not white like paper or white like snow, but silver—the colour of polished coin, of moonlight on water, of the ring on a finger you were too poor to afford but wanted anyway. It burned in a holder of black iron, set into a stone pedestal in a room that was three stories underground in a house nobody on Mortimer Street had ever seen inside. Arthur Pendelton first saw...

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