nearly eight o’clock
She heard nothing . Who would have dreamed of his going out , indeed ? A minute later he was in the street . It was nearly eight o'clock , the sun was setting . It was as stifling as before , but he eagerly drank in the stinking , dusty town air . His head felt rather dizzy ; a sort of savage energy gleamed suddenly in his feverish eyes and his wasted , pale and yellow face . He did not know and did not think where he was going , he had one thought only : `` that all _ this _ must be ended to-day , once for all , immediately ; that he would not return home without it , because he _ would not go on living like that _ . ''