The White Rose of the Thames

добавлена новая статья Literature

2026-06-07 07:44:05 -

I The fog came down the Thames like a shroud, thick and yellow, swallowing the gas lamps whole. Arthur Pemberton stood at the railing of the bridge and watched it move, his hands clasped behind his back to keep them from trembling. He had been in London three weeks and the fog had not yet stopped frightening him. It was the dampness he could not bear. The way it settled on his coat and made it...

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