The Wistful Show
The ledger in my pocket held twelve pounds, four shillings, and sixpence, the exact sum required to secure a place in the household of Mr. Silas Thorne, apothecary and chemist. I counted the coins three times in the grey light of the steamship deck, the copper warm against my thumb, before I tucked them back into the lining. The crossing had been rough, and the smell of the bilge water was a...
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