Eight o’clock
`` I am mad , '' he muttered . `` I have had no food since the morning , and yet I am neither hungry nor thirsty , and there is a fire in my breast that burns me . '' He put back the skin in the frame where it had been enclosed but lately , drew a line in red ink about the actual configuration of the talisman , and seated himself in his armchair . `` Eight o'clock already ! '' he exclaimed . `` To-day has gone like a dream . '' He leaned his elbow on the arm of the chair , propped his head with his left hand , and so remained , lost in secret dark reflections and consuming thoughts that men condemned to die bear away with them .