The Distant Temple
The train did not so much arrive at the station of Blackwood as it dissolved into it, a grinding, metallic sigh that seemed to pull the very breath from the lungs of the passengers who stood upon the platform. Arthur Penhaligon, a man whose mind had long ago traded the softness of the world for the rigid architecture of logic, tightened his grip on his leather valise. The leather was worn thin...
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