Arthur Pendelton arrived in London with three things: a letter of introduction to a man who did not know he existed, a trunk full of clothes his father had left him, and the desperate hope that he ...
He took a room in Bloomsbury and spent his first week walking the streets of London, trying to understand the great machine that had swallowed his family. Men in black coats hurried past him with papers under their arm. Carriages clattered along cobblestones. The air smelled of coal smoke and horse sweat and something else, something sharp and new, like money being counted in a room just down...
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