The Wistful Witness
The letter lay on the magistrate’s desk, the wax seal broken, the paper damp with the humidity of the cellar where it had been kept for three years. Elias Thorne did not look at the document; he looked at the man who held it, Magistrate Aldous Vane, a figure of soft wool and polished wood who sat behind a desk that cost more than the entire Blackwood estate. The room smelled of beeswax and old...
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