The Distant Clue
You stand in the center of the long, vaulted hall, the air thick with the scent of polished mahogany and the faint, metallic tang of old blood that seems to seep through the cracks in the floorboards despite the heavy scrubbing crews that come twice a week. It is the year of the iron rails and the steam that hisses from the pipes in the walls, a time when the world is being pulled together by...
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