The Distant Affair
The fog in Millhaven did not roll in from the sea, as it did in the coastal towns to the west, but seeped up from the black, tarry sludge of the river and the damp, rotting leaves of the oak trees that lined the High Street. It was a living thing, a grey and cold breath that settled in the lungs of the workers and the police alike, a permanent shroud that turned the gas lamps into blurry,...
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