There was a frenetic energy to the very air that did not sleep even though the world seemed to grind to a stop after nightfall. The streets were still alive as candle bearers went from street to street, igniting the flames upon each light pole's glass house. Each and every building stood, proud and dauntless, made of mortar and brick and stone, drab colours turned majestic and noble in defiance of convention. Whether it was by a trick of the light or a trick of the mind from the atmosphere, Handy could not say.