The Golden Visit
The hall was a cavern of gaslight and dust, the air thick with the scent of roasted meats and the damp, metallic tang of old stone. We stood in a line, twelve of us, our uniforms pressed to a mirror shine that belied the grime beneath our fingernails. The Inspector, a man whose face had long since surrendered to the weight of his own authority, stood before us on a dais that seemed to float...
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