Publisher's Synopsis
The main hall of Sternwood's house was two stories high. Above the door wings that a herd of Indian elephants would have let through, a knight in dark armor could be seen on a wide stained glass window in the rescue of a lady who was tied to a tree and conveniently wore nothing but a lot of long hair. The knight had raised his visor in a sociable manner and was fumbling with the ropes with which the lady was lashed to the tree. But he couldn't get past it. I stood there and thought that if I lived in the house, sooner or later I would have to climb up and give him a hand, because he didn't seem to be really bothering. Behind the glass doors at the back of the hall, a wide emerald lawn stretched to a white garage, in front of which a slim, dark, young chauffeur in shiny black gaiters was dusting a maroon Packard convertible. Behind the garage were a few decorative trees, neatly trimmed like poodle dogs.
