The Coin That Would Not Be Spent
The fog came in off the Irwell like a living thing, thick and yellow and smelling of coal smoke and river rot. Arthur Blackwell pulled his collar up and walked faster, though there was nowhere left to walk to. He had been running for three days. The accident at Mill Number Four had happened on a Tuesday. Seven children, all under twelve, caught in the carding machines. The inspector took his...
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