The gendarme opened the weak fingers and pulled his hand away.
Then Yanson seized the corner of the carriage, the door, the high wheel, but immediately let it go upon the slightest effort on the part of the gendarme.

He did not exactly seize these things; he rather cleaved to each object sleepily and silently, and was torn away easily, without any effort.

Finally he got up.
There were no flags.

The railroad station was dark, deserted and lifeless; the passenger trains were not running any longer, and the train which was silently waiting for these passengers on the way needed no bright light, no commotion.

Suddenly Werner began to feel weary.
It was not fear, nor anguish, but a feeling of enormous, painful, tormenting weariness which makes one feel like going off somewhere, lying down and closing one's eyes very tightly.