The Wistful Campus
The letter on the desk smelled of stale tobacco and the particular, metallic dampness that clings to paper left too long in a humid room. Arthur Vane did not open it immediately; instead, he stood by the window of the junior archivist’s office at St. Jude’s Institute, watching the leafless oaks of the campus shiver in the October wind of 1912, his hands gripping the sill until the wood groaned...
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