The Verge Manor
Act 1 The letter came on a Tuesday, carried by a clerk from the county court who refused to set foot on the drive. He handed me the envelope at the end of the gravel road and told me, plain as day, that Miss Verge had stipulated I come alone. The envelope was thick, cream-laid, embossed with a crest I half-remembered from childhood—three pears on a crumbling trellis. The ink was smudged where...
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