Publisher's Synopsis
FOR the last five hours all the windows along the front of the newest and whitest and most pretentious and pre-posterous house in Park Lane had been blazing with lig-hts, which were kindled while the last flames of the long July day had scarcely died down into the ash-coloured night, and were still shining when morning began to tin-ge the velvet gray of the sky with colour and extinguish the stars. The lights, however, in No. 92 seemed to be of more durable quality than the heavenly constellations and long after morning had come and the early traffic be-gun to boom on the roadway, they still burned with un-diminished splendour.
