An extraordinary likeness to an English peer plunges Victor Jones, of Philadelphia, into deep waters, and the reader has many thrills before the last page of the novel determines whether Victor Jones is going to sink or swim.
nd close to the bed, nine delicate and silvery strokes, that brought a sudden sweat upon the forehead of Jones.
He was not in his room at the Savoy. There was no clock in the Savoy bed room, and no clock in any hotel ever spoke in tones like these. On the sound, as if from a passage outside, he heard a voice:
"Took all his money, and sent him home in another chap's clothes."
Then came the sound of a soft step crossing the carpet, the sound of curtain rings moving--then a blind upshrivelled letting the light of day upon a room never before seen by Jones, a Jacobean bed room, severe, but exquisite in every detail.
The man who had pulled the blind string, and whose powerful profile was silhouetted against the light, showed to the sun a face highly but evenly coloured, as though by the gentle painting of old port wine, through a long series of years and ancestors. The typical colour of the old fashioned English Judge, Bishop, and Butler.
He was attired in a black morning coat, a
The plot is a bit like "The Prince and the Pauper", except in this book the rich man kills himself after switching places with the poor man. The surviving man decides to keep up the charade in order to straighten out the messes the rich man made in his life. But when it looks like a happy ending for the family, it turns out to be anything but happy for the imposter who reveals his true identity.