The Distant Threshold
Act I Why does the stone remember what the court forgets?‌​⁠⁠‌‌‌​​‌⁠​⁠‌‍‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍​​‍‍‌​​​​​​​​​​​​​​‌⁠‍‍‍‌⁠‍‍⁠‌‍‍‍‍​⁠​⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‍‍‍‌‌‍⁠‌‌ Burkhard Bauer sat in the rented room above the toll-bridge, the window rattling in its frame as the gritters began their work before dawn, the physical fact of the weather pressing against the glass like a hand demanding entry. He was forty years old, a scholar of...
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