The Fog of Black Lane
London, 1860, was a city of two faces. By day, the great factories of the East End belched smoke into the sky, and the great ships of the Thames carried cotton and coal to every corner of the Empire. By night, the fog rolled in from the river, thick and yellow, swallowing the gas lamps whole. Arthur Pendelton was fourteen years old and he knew the fog better than anyone in Black Lane. He knew...
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