The Wistful Mirror
The rain lashed against the leaded glass of the parlor window, a relentless drumming that seemed to vibrate through the soot-stained air, while Arthur Vane sat hunched over the desk, his fingers trembling as he smoothed the edge of a letter that held the final threat from the debt collectors. He looked up, his eyes red-rimmed and feverish, and fixed his gaze on Thomas, the young clerk who stood...
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