The Last Bargain of Edmund Wren
The fog rolled off the Thames like a living thing, thick and yellow with coal smoke, swallowing the gas lamps on Fleet Street until they were nothing but smudged halos in the murk. Edmund Wren stood at the edge of Smithfield Market with six horses beside him and a feeling in his chest that was almost courage and almost terror and almost exactly equal parts of both. His father's voice echoed in...
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