The car raised no dust, but bored swiftly on, searching out the road with its lamps.

On Putney Bridge its march was stayed by a string of waggons.

Lord Valleys looked to right and left.

The river reflected the thousand lights of buildings piled along her sides, lamps of the embankments, lanterns of moored barges.

The sinuous pallid body of this great Creature, for ever gliding down to the sea, roused in his mind no symbolic image.