Just now he underwent a sudden reaction.
It had all been a matter of fancy, nothing but nervousness; he had not drawn for some time, his hand lacked cunning from long disuse.

The desire for work came upon him again overpoweringly.

He wanted to see again if he could not draw just as truly and freely as in the old days.
No, he could not wait till morning; he must put himself to the test again at once, at the very instant.

It was a sudden feminine caprice, induced, no doubt, by the exalted, strained, and unnatural condition of his nerves, a caprice that could not be reasoned with, that could not be withstood.

He had his keys with him, he opened the outside door and groped his way up the four long flights of stairs to his studio.
The studio was full of a sombre half-light, like a fog, spreading downward from the great north light in the sloping roof.