They took positions in a loose semi-circle, all pointing towards the sick man, and it reminded Byrne with grim force of a picture he had seen of three wolves waiting for the bull moose to sink in the snows: they, also, were waiting for a death.

It seemed, indeed, as if death must have already come; at least it could not make him more moveless than he was.

Against the dark wall his profile was etched by a sharp highlight which was brightest of all on his forehead and his nose; while the lower portion of the face was lost in comparative shadow.
So perfect and so detailed was the resemblance to death, indeed, that the lips in the shadow smiled--fixedly.

It was not until Kate Cumberland shifted a lamp, throwing more light on her father, that Byrne saw that the smile was in reality a forcible compression of the lips.

He understood, suddenly, that the silent man on the couch was struggling terribly against an hysteria of emotion.