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... y dissipated, leaving behind a few strands of thin sunlight, diagonally piercing through the worn eaves and streetlamp posts, casting elongated shadows.
The air carried a hint of coal smoke mixed with the damp rust smell, blended with the ink fragrance of newspapers and documents, the coarse language of carriage drivers, and a trace of an invigorating moisture, a scent that appears only before major events unfold.
The front door of Scotland Yard stood tall and silent, like a slum ...
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