The Golden Quest
Arthur Vane’s hand, steady and dry, moved the quill across the damp paper of the ledger, the nib scratching against the fiber with a sound like a small animal dying in the wall, a sound that had become the only rhythm in his life since Elias Thorne’s funeral three weeks prior. He was forty years old, a clerk of such unremarkable competence that the Meridian Insurance Exchange treated him less...
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