The Golden Visit
The brandy glass trembled in my hand, a small, golden shiver that I forced down before the liquid could spill onto the white tablecloth. The air in the Grand Hall was thick, heavy with the smell of roasted pheasant and expensive perfume, a heat that stuck to the skin like a damp cloth. I looked across the long table at Commissioner Vane. He smiled at me. It was a wide smile, showing too many...
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