So--till another twenty minutes had passed.

The friends had not exchanged a word, had scarcely made the slightest movement.

Could a stranger have been suddenly introduced into the black room, and have remained listening attentively, he might easily have been deceived into the belief that, but for himself, it was deserted.

To both Valentine and Julian the silence seemed progressive.

With each gliding moment they could have declared that it grew deeper, more dense, more prominent, even more grotesque and living.