He himself seemed under a tight band of constraint.

Then there was his other self, in the distance, doing things, entering stuff in a ledger, and he watched that far-off him carefully to see he made no mistake.
But the ache and strain of it could not go on much longer.

He worked incessantly.

Still it was only twelve o'clock.

As if he had nailed his clothing against the desk, he stood there and worked, forcing every stroke out of himself.