He had made up his mind not to sleep, and for hours he lay watchful and waiting, smoking occasionally, with his face close to the ground so that the odour of tobacco would cling to the earth.
The moon rose until it was straight overhead, flooding the valley in a golden splendour that he wished Joanne might have seen.

Then it began sinking into the west; slowly at first, and then more swiftly, its radiance diminished.

He looked at his watch before the yellow orb effaced itself behind the towering peak of a distant mountain.

It was a quarter of two.
With deepening darkness, his eyes grew heavier.

He closed them for a few moments at a time; and each time the interval was longer, and it took greater effort to force himself into wakefulness.