Paris in the autumn of 1919 smelled of wet stone and exhausted hope.

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2026-06-12 14:03:48 -

Thomas Crane stood on the bridge over the Seine and watched the water move past—brown, indifferent, carrying with it the debris of a war that had consumed a generation and given nothing back. He had been standing there for twenty minutes when Isabelle Chandler found him. "You're going to catch cold," she said, in the brisk, unsentimental tone that had first annoyed him and then, over the past...

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