Three o'clock
There were opiates for remorse , drugs that could lull the moral sense to sleep . But here was a visible symbol of the degradation of sin . Here was an ever-present sign of the ruin men brought upon their souls . Three o'clock struck , and four , and half-past four , but he did not stir . He was trying to gather up the scarlet threads of life , and to weave them into a pattern ; to find his way through the sanguine labyrinth of passion through which he was wandering . He did not know what to do , or what to think . Finally , he went over to the table and wrote a passionate letter to the girl he had loved , imploring her forgiveness , and accusing himself of madness .