The Distant Metropolis
"It is a matter of arithmetic, Arthur, not morality." The voice of Mr. Halloway came from behind the heavy oak door of the senior underwriter’s office, muffled by the thick velvet curtains that hung from ceiling to floor, blocking out the gray November light of 1912. Arthur Vane stood in the corridor, his hand still resting on the cold brass handle, listening to the low, rhythmic hum that rose...
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