The fog swirls amid the Victorian docks. In the counting houses tallow candles gutter as fat men with sleek, sallow jowls flicker their stubby fingers through the day's tally. Dockland workers, fearful for their jobs, scurry in the basements, searching for food, clothing, and shelter from the penetrating dank. Dusk falls. A man steps out of the shadows. A shutter clicks.
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