Silas looked at him. "Why not?"
# The Manor of Shadows The air in Mississippi was thick with something that was not quite humidity and not quite decay. It was the smell of old things: old wood, old blood, old sins. Dr. Silas Thorne had smelled it before, in the jungles of Vietnam, in the field hospitals where men died screaming and the nurses cried silently and the sun never seemed to set. But here, in this manor on the edge...
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