All the same, after an hour had passed, and we still waiting there, it began to be a sickening kind of feeling.

The day had been all taken up with the evidence and the rest of the trial; all long, dragging hours of a hot summer's day.

The sun had been blazing away all day on the iron roof of the courthouse and the red dust of the streets, that lay inches deep for a mile all round the town.

The flies buzzed all over the courthouse, and round and round, while the lawyers talked and wrangled with each other; and still the trial went on.
Witness after witness was called, and cross-examined and bullied, and confused and contradicted till he was afraid to say what he knew or what he didn't know.

I began to think it must be some kind of performance that would go on for ever and never stop, and the day and it never could end.
At last the sun came shining level with the lower window, and we knew it was getting late.