the Hour of Four
Kiss me , John -- '' And then the wild and terrible fear of a great loneliness swept through him . For Joanne 's voice had died away in a whispering breath , and the lips he kissed did not kiss him back , and her body lay heavy , heavy , heavy in his arms . Yet in his loneliness he thanked God for bringing her oblivion in these last moments , and with his face crushed to hers he waited . For he knew that it was no longer a matter of minutes , but of seconds , and in those seconds he prayed , until up through the warm smother of her hair -- with the clearness of a tolling bell -- came the sound of the little gong in his watch striking the Hour of Four ! In space other worlds might have crumbled into ruin ; on earth the stories of empires might have been written and the lives of men grown old in those first century-long seconds in which John Aldous held his breath and waited after the chiming of the hour-bell in the watch on the cavern floor . How long he waited he did not know ; how closely he was crushing Joanne to his breast he did not realize . Seconds , minutes , and other minutes -- and his brain ran red in dumb , silent madness .