The Golden Visit
The tea was still hot, the steam curling into the stagnant air of the parlor with a sound like a dying breath, and Elias Thorne stared at the liquid as if it had committed a crime against his dignity. "You do not believe in it," Mrs. Gable said. Her voice was dry, stripped of the tremor one might expect from a widow, though her hands, wrapped around the porcelain cup, were steady as stone. "You...
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