The Valet and the Venoms
The silver gleamed under the gaslight with a cold, medicinal brightness that made Sebastian Vale think of surgical instruments. He had polished it that morning — every piece, every fork and spoon and ladle — and arranged them in the linen-lined drawers of Ashworth House with the precision of a man laying out tools for an operation. Sir Reginald Ashworth was a man who counted his silverware...
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