The young man's face sank on his arms and lay buried there, while he thought, and thought, and thought, trying to bring a life of which he could think into relation with that which is unthinkable.
Was ever reverie more vain! He raised his head and stared about him.

The glaring lamp showed all the details of the room, and made it seem so real, so much more real than mere thoughts, let alone that of which one cannot think.

He got up to alter the stove-damper, pushing it shut with a clatter of iron, burning his fingers slightly, and sat down again, feeling it a relief to know, if by the smart, that he had touched something.
The wood within the stove ceased blazing when the damper was shut, and when its crackling was silenced there was a great quiet.

The air outside was still; the flame of the lamp could hardly make sound.

Trenholme's watch, which lay on the table, ticked and seemed to clamour for his attention.