was too restless, and soon gave it up. Like the room in which Ricori lay, my study is at the rear, looking
down upon the little garden. I walked to the window and stared out, unseeingly. More vivid than ever
was that feeling of standing before a blank door which it was vitally important to open. I turned back into
the study and was surprised to find it was close to ten o'clock. I dimmed my light and lay down upon the
comfortable couch. Almost immediately I fell asleep.
I awoke from that sleep with a start, as though someone had spoken in my ear. I sat up, listening. There
was utter silence around me. And suddenly I was aware that it was a strange silence, unfamiliar and
oppressive. A thick, dead silence that filled the study and through which no sound from outside could
penetrate. I jumped to my feet and turned on the lights, full. The silence retreated, seemed to pour out of
the room like something tangible. But slowly. Now I could hear the ticking of my clock-ticking out