About This Book
It is seldom that a novel of such sustained power, such unquestioned magnitude as The House in Demetrius Road by J. D. Beresford, may be adequately and comprehensively summed up in so few words. It is a grim, compelling, relentless book, one that oddly enough suggests kinship with two other stories, in spite of many inherent dissimilarities of substance and style: Snaith's Broke of Covenden and George Douglas's House with the Green Shutters. Mr. Beresford gets his effects with a minimum of material; the whole story is practically a drama with three characters and one stage setting. There is first of all Robin Greg, author, statesman, possibly future cabinet minister, but admittedly eccentric, with a veiled hint of something more sinister. Then, there is his private secretary, Martin Bond, newly arrived, ill at ease, scenting some hidden mystery, some secret vice. And lastly, there is Margaret Hamilton, Greg's sister-in-law, a woman of so fine a type as to compel any decent man's reverence and chivalry, yet whom it is evident that Greg both scorns and hates. The study of Greg from a pathological standpoint is masterly.
