The Count's Final Descent
I The gaslights of Paris, in those last decadent years of the nineteenth century, threw a yellow pallor over everything they touched, as though the city itself were already half-consumed by some slow, patient decay. It suited Comte Lucien de Valemont, who walked its boulevards at all hours with the hollow elegance of a man who has nothing left to lose and every reason to keep looking elegant....
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