Thomas Blackwood had not slept in two days.
The rain had been falling on Oxford since Michaelmas. It fell now on All Souls' College with the same indifferent persistence, as though the sky itself were a machine designed only for the purpose of wetting stone. Thomas Blackwood had not slept in two days. He sat in his chambers on the third floor of Blackstone Hall, the gaslight turned low, his lungs rattling in his chest like a sack of...
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