The scales of justice (Fred M. White)

This dark story is full of mystery and unsolved mysteries. It was the first real day of Spring, and most people lingered out of doors till the bare branches of the trees melted in the gloaming, and it was possible to see and hear no more, save for the promise of the little black herald singing madly from the blackthorn. In certain places, the lights were grouped into masses, because they lit up a trio of Louis Quatorze card tables, where twelve people played bridge. From time to time, yellow flames revealed some brilliant objects on the walls or on the floor, hinting at the treasures of art, most of which have their own history.