The Pale Shadows
You’re late again, Arthur. The clock doesn’t care about your father’s debts, and neither do I. I stood in the doorway of the overseer’s office, the air in the corridor still thick with the damp chill of the October morning, and watched Mr. Thorne turn his back to me. He was a tall man, thin as a reed, with a voice that seemed to originate somewhere below his feet, a low rumble that vibrated in...
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