PREVIEW
... , and the setting sun cast its glow on the yellowish wastewater flowing from the tannery, gilding it with a golden edge that stretched to the horizon, giving the illusion of a road of gold leading to the heavens.
As night gradually fell, the little taverns in the brick alleys of Whitechapel began to buzz with life.
They were packed with merchant sailors seeking fun, dockworkers, or the brick kiln stokers from nearby brickworks, among others.
The air was thick with the sou ...
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