She said nothing, although her glance rested upon him with sad affection.
Lane clambered wearily up to his little room.

It had always been a refuge.

He leaned a moment against the wall, and felt in his extremity like an animal in a trap.

A thousand pricking, rushing sensations seemed to be on the way to his head.

That confusion, that sensation as if his blood vessels would burst, yielded to his will.