The hour of mysteries has struck. Along with it, the grand clock of time, which for centuries has relentlessly moved forward, crushing lives and futures with its long needle. That needle has turned a lot, bringing us to the end of the 19th century...
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In a street, lost in London's maze, I met a girl. She said her name was Lucy Moon, and that she wanted to become a detective. She smiled, her blue dress flowing around her and, at this moment, I knew that she was Lucy Moon.
