The Conservationist
Act One: The Empty House Henry Thornberry stood on the floor of his penthouse study and stared at the city below, and he could not remember the last time anything here had been green. The walls were papered in a gold that the electric light made sickly. The rug was deep and crimson and had swallowed the heels of at least three shoe salesmen that morning. On his desk sat a ledger that contained...
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