Or else it was the perpetual rush of images and sensations through the mind that hastened the hours.

Once when the first streaks of the March dawn were showing through the curtains Minta Hurd sprang up with a loud cry: "Oh, my God! Jim, _Jim!_ Oh, no!--take that off.

Oh, _please_, sir, please! Oh, for God's sake, sir!" Agony struggled with sleep.

Marcella, shuddering, held and soothed her, and for a while sleep, or rather the drug in her veins, triumphed again.
For another hour or two she lay restlessly tossing from side to side, but unconscious.
Willie hardly moved all night.

Again and again Marcella held beef-tea or milk to his mouth, and tried to rouse him to take it, but she could make no impression on the passive lips; the sleeping serenity of the brow never changed.
At last, with a start, Marcella looked round and saw that the morning was fully there.