Sonata Form
CHAPTER ONE Underneath the barrelled glass roof of the railway station, in a vaulted space as lofty as the nave of a cathedral, Brock waited on the bitterly cold platform, watching the crackling blue sparks, like malevolent St. Elmo’s fire, dancing around the pantograph of the advancing locomotive. The prospect of embarking upon this journey at such an unearthly hour had lost much of its appeal, ever since the insistent clamour of the alarm clock had ejected him from sleep. I