Daylight came at four; he saw the sun rise for the first time in his life.

He neither enjoyed nor appreciated the novelty.

Never had he witnessed anything so mournfully depressing as the first grey tints that crept up to mock him in his vigil; never had he seen anything so ghastly as the soft red glow that suffused the morning sky.
"I'll sleep all day if I ever get into that damned bed," he said to himself, bitterly wistful.
The Customs officers had eyed him suspiciously at the border.

They evidently had been told of his strange madness in refusing to occupy the berth he had paid for.

Their examination of his effects was more thorough than usual.