The Wistful Dinner
The rain had been falling for three days, a relentless, gray sheet that turned the cobblestones of the coastal town into slick, black mirrors reflecting the dim, gaslight glow of the streetlamps, and it was in this oppressive, damp silence that Arthur Vane, a man whose uniform had once fit him with the crisp precision of a soldier but now hung on his shoulders like a heavy, ill-fitting shroud,...
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