The Golden Downtown
The agent, a man named Mr. Vane with a smile that seemed to cost him nothing and return nothing, stood in the center of the hall and tapped his watch. He was a small, sharp-featured man in a suit the color of wet slate, and his lightness of manner felt like a physical insult against the heavy, dust-choked air of the room. You, Lieutenant Ashworth, stood by the window, your hands clasped behind...
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