Day by day the pressure had been increased, day by day his loneliness had grown, day by day the pursuit had drawn closer.
And now he hardly recognized the real from the false.

He paced his room frantically.

He felt that on the other side of the bedroom door there was terror.

He had turned on all his lights; a furious fire was blazing in the grate; beyond the windows cold stars and an icy moon, but in here stifling heat.
When Bunning (the clocks were striking eleven) came blinking in upon him he was muttering--"Let me go, let me go.

I killed him, I tell you.