A brooding frown wrinkled the smooth forehead.

It was there when Celeste came in; it remained there after Celeste departed; and it vanished only under the soft, dispelling fingers of sleep.
There was a frown on Thomas' forehead, too; bitten deep.

He tried to read, he tried to smoke, he tried to sleep; futilely.

In the middle of the banquet, as it were, like a certain Assyrian king in Babylon, Thomas saw the Chaldaic characters on the wall: wherever he looked, written in fire--Thou fool!.