The Wistful Campus
The chandelier in the Harrow Gazette ballroom swung with a heavy, pendulous rhythm, casting long, trembling shadows across the polished mahogany floor where Arthur Vane stood, counting the seconds between his own heartbeats. There were forty-two guests in the room, and he could name thirty of them, the rest a blur of silk and expensive cologne that seemed to thicken the air until it was...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews