The Distant Affair
The envelope was thick, the paper heavy with the damp weight of the mill’s exhalations, and when you tore it open, the smell of sulfur and wet wool rose to meet you before the ink even registered on your retinas. It was a final notice from the St. Jude’s Asylum, the figures stark and unyielding: one hundred and twelve pounds, due before the month’s end, or Clara would be transferred to the...
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