The Wistful Silence
The chandelier above the polished mahogany floor of the Meridian Insurance Exchange cast a fractured, prismatic light over the gathered staff, illuminating the dust motes that danced in the air like suspended judgments. Arthur Vane stood at the periphery of the cluster near the punch bowl, his fingers white-knuckled around the leather-bound ledger he had tucked beneath his arm, the cover worn...
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