The Golden Song
The pen hovered over the dotted line, the ink welling slightly on the tip, a dark bead refusing to fall. Elias pressed down. The signature of E. Thorne, Senior Actuary, looked small and brittle against the heavy cream stock of the preliminary agreement. Across the table, Mr. Vane watched him with the stillness of a man who had already counted the money. Vane was a developer of coastal estates,...
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