Publisher's Synopsis
Like a man who reenters a closed and darkened house and lies down; lying there, remains conscious of sunlight outside, of bird-calls, and the breeze in the trees, sohad Drene entered into the obscurity of himself.Through the chambers of his brain the twilit corridors where cringed his bruised anddisfigured soul, there nothing stirring except the automatic pulses which never cease.Sometimes, when the sky itself crashes earthward and the world lies in ruins fromhorizon to horizon, life goes on.The things that men live through-and live!But no doubt Death was too busy elsewhere to attend to Drene
