This treatment of "the problem novel" is whimsically satirical, perhaps too strongly so--the theme dealing with an American author of independent fortune who buys a feudal castle in Germany and on entering into occupancy finds the east wing of his fortress inhabited by a beautiful but mysterious lady.
unconquerable habit acquired very early in life which urges me to eat three meals a day and to sleep nine hours out of twenty-four.
A month ago, in Vienna, I felt the plot breaking out on me, very much as the measles do, at a most inopportune time for everybody concerned, and my secretary, more wide-awake than you'd imagine by looking at him, urged me to coddle the muse while she was willing and not to put her off till an evil day, as frequently I am in the habit of doing.
It was especially annoying, coming as it did, just as I was about to set off for a fortnight's motor-boat trip up the Danube with Elsie Hazzard and her stupid husband, the doctor. I compromised with myself by deciding to give them a week of my dreamy company, and then dash off to England where I could work off the story in a sequestered village I had had in mind for some time past.
The fourth day of our delectable excursion brought us to an ancient town whose name you would recall in an instant if I were fool enough to mention it,
I was worried in the start that the vocabulary and writing style would make the story hard to read, but it either got better, or I got used to it, by the 2nd chapter. The story is a wonderful adventure and love story that keeps you eager to read more. I put it on the level of romantic comedy as the works of Wodehouse or perhaps even better. I highly recommend it!