The Copper Key
*Victorian Gothic* The fog rolled off the Firth of Forth like a shroud drawn slowly across the faces of the dead, and Dr. Alistair Finch pulled his coat tighter against it as the carriage clattered over the wet cobblestones of the Stockbridge district. He had not intended to come back to Edinburgh. Three years was a respectable interval for forgetting — three years was enough time for the...
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