But still, there was the natural dislike of an acknowledgment of utter defeat; and, added to this, the bitter reluctance a man of ability feels at the idea of his powers ceasing to be active, and himself ceasing to be.

The instinct of life was strong in him, though his reason seemed to tell him there was no way in which his life could be used.
"It's better to go!" he exclaimed at last, after long hours of conflicting meditation.
It was getting late in the evening.

Eleven o'clock had struck, and he thought he would go to bed.

He was very tired and worn out, and decided to put off further questions till the next day.
After all, there was no hurry.

He knew the worst now; the blow had been struck, and only the dull, unending pain was with him--and would be till the hour came when he should free himself from it.