The Debt of Lord Arthur
The air in the counting room was always stale, as though the money itself had absorbed the breath of every clerk who had ever leaned over it. Arthur Pendelton did not remember the last time he had breathed anything that did not taste of damp and regret. The debt was forty-seven thousand pounds. Not forty-six. Not forty-eight. Forty-seven, precisely, as though the universe had calculated it with...
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