What the Darkness Kept
What the Darkness Kept The fog that December tasted of coal and regret. Eleanor Hartley pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders as the hackney carriage clattered over the cobblestones of Manchester's Mosley Street. She had worked fourteen hours at the cotton mill and her hands still carried the lint and alkali that would never fully wash off, no matter how much soap her landlady Mrs....
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