The rain in Whitechapel did not cleanse; it merely turned the soot of London into a thick, black ...
He had not intended to visit. He had told himself a dozen times that Thomas Kells was not his responsibility—a drunken brawl, a broken jaw, three months at hard labor. That was the law. The law did not ask Mr. Whitmore to stand in the rain. But Edmund Whitmore was a man who could not leave things unfinished. The gate opened. A warder led Tommy out in chains. The young man was twenty-eight,...
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