At the Temperature Where Iron Becomes Something Else
August Dunsmuir noticed the first change on the fourteenth of March, 1883, a day when the gas lamps on Wall Street had been lit since noon against a sky the color of wet slate. He stood at the window of his office on the fifth floor of the Dunsmuir Steel Building, watching the horse-drawn carriages below negotiate the mud of Broad Street, and he felt something shift inside his chest. Not pain....
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