He, too, was motionless, and longed for release as he had never thought he could long for anything.

A still unlighted cigar was almost bitten through by his sharp front teeth; every faculty was tense; and yet it was as if his brain had stopped thinking at the point where expectation had begun.

He could not think now, he could only suffer.

If the operation were successful there would be more suffering, doubt still more torturing, suspense more agonising still.
The great clock over the stables struck eleven, then the quarter, then half-past.

The familiar chimes floated in through the open windows.
A wild hope came with the sound.