The Golden Visit
The heavy, rusted wheel of the mill turned with a groan that sounded less like machinery and more like the settling of a great, ancient bone, a sound that Mabel Hartwell had long ago stopped trying to distinguish from the wind that tore through the gaps in the stone walls of the Blackwood Loom Factory, a place that stood isolated on the moor like a forgotten tooth in the jaw of the earth, where...
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