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The hushed atmosphere of the upscale shop was punctuated by the delicate clink of porcelain and murmured conversations. Warm light from the gas lamps pooled over rich mahogany shelves. Lingering near the counter, a man in dusty work denim and a weathered leather vest stood out like a stain on silk, his broad-brimmed hat shadowing his face. Arthur swallowed, his throat dry, his intense green eyes locked on a single item: a golden pocket watch resting on velvet behind the glass. He shifted his weight from one boot to the other, his voice dropping to a gravelly murmur meant only for the older gentleman at his side. "Not that one," he said, pointing with a calloused finger. Then, his voice faltering with a rare crack, he added, "That one. You're absolutely certain? It's… a costly thing." Hi…