midnight
Again he found himself thinking of Graylock , and presently he laughed ; then frightened , checked himself . But his fevered brain had been afire too long ; he lay fighting with his thoughts to hold them in leash lest they slip out into the night like blood hounds on the trail of the man they had dogged so long . Trembling , terrified , he set his teeth in his bleeding lip , and clenched his gaunt fists : He could not hold his thoughts in leash ; could not control the terrifying laughter ; hatred blazed like hell-fire scorching the soul in him , searing his aching brain with flames which destroy . In the darkness he struggled blindly to his feet ; and he saw the stars through the glass roof all ablaze in the midnight sky ; saw the infernal flicker of pale flames in the obscurity around him , heard a voice calling for help -- his own voice -- Then something stirred in the darkness ; he listened , stared , striving to pierce the obscurity with fevered eyes . Long since the cloths that swathed the clay figures in the studio had dried out unnoticed by him . He gazed from one to another , holding his breath . Then his eyes rested upon the altar piece , fell on the snowy foot , were lifted inch by inch along the marble folds upward slowly to the slim and child-like hands -- `` Oh , God ! ''