Not truer Victoriana this time (A Singular Iniquity) but close to the spirit of that era, this is an agreeably appointed story of Chalmers, gentleman-bachelor, and his attachment to Clemmie Wainwright who is ""not good for people."" Not good for the artist for whom she had once modeled before he died of opiates; not good for her wealthy husband who has vanished; not good for herself -- those wakeful or sleepwalking nocturnes; not good for Chalmers who had not quite recognized ""her sort""? Mr. Petrie tells his story with a finesse not usually accorded the genre -- it's a most pleasing lamplit entertainment for that horsehair loveseat.