The Golden Downtown

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2026-08-21 18:54:01 -

The rain had not stopped for three days, a relentless, grey curtain that turned the cobblestones of the old quarter into slick mirrors reflecting the dim, amber glow of the gas lamps, and in the shadow of the cathedral’s western tower, where the air smelled of wet wool, decaying stone, and the faint, metallic tang of old blood, Margaret Holloway sat hunched over a table that seemed to be carved...

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