The Wistful Campus
The frost on the windowpane of the restricted library had not formed from the outside, but bloomed from the inner glass like a fern frond, a delicate, impossible lace that Arthur Vane watched with a mixture of professional dread and quiet fascination. It was October, 1924, and the air in St. Jude’s Academy tasted of damp stone and old paper, a scent that had seeped into Arthur’s pores over the...
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