The Temperature at Which Steel Forgets
Augustus Thorne stood at the window of his office on the seventh floor of the Equitable Building, watching the gas lamps flicker to life along Broadway. The year was 1887, and New York City was a furnace burning coal and ambition. Below him, men in frock coats hurried across cobblestones slick with February slush, each one carrying a ledger or a grievance or a scheme. Augustus had been each of...
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