The Distant Joke
The rain fell on the stone of the keep. It was a cold rain. Sir Edward Ashworth stood by the window. He held a silver clasp. It was cold in his hand. He had taken it from his wife. She had worn it for ten years. It was a simple thing. A lion’s head. Its eyes were black stones. He turned away from the glass. The room was dark. Only the candle burned. The flame shook. He looked at the clasp...
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