The Golden Master
The Golden MasterThe house stood at the end of a lane that no one used anymore, in a village that appeared on no modern map. Arthur Pendelton had inherited it from an uncle he had met exactly once, at a funeral in Bath twelve years before. The letter had been thin, typed on paper that smelled of lavender and old dust. "The key is in the brass bowl by the door. The rest you will learn."Arthur...
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