
You stood in a cavern whose walls, floor, hanging lamps, and moving company all appeared to be made of gold. A dream should announce itself by nonsense, yet every hard hand I touch feels more convincing than the last. You step into this one-chapter preview with Mr Shirley at the center, where choices turn on the people, promises, and pressure already in the room. Neither man yet knew which choice would survive the week. The chapter closes on a continuation question rather than resolving the novel's larger arc.
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