2 A.M.
He drew off his top-coat and shoes , and put on his shabby though once expensive slippers . Slowly . He lay on his bed . He certainly did not intend to go to sleep -- but he awoke at 2 A.M. , dressed , the light burning , his windows closed , feeling sweaty and hot and dirty and dry-mouthed -- a victim of all the woes since tall Troy burned . He shucked off his clothes as you shuck an ear of corn . When he awoke in the morning he lay as usual , greeting a shining new day , till he realized that it was not a shining day ; it was an ominous day ; everything was wrong . That something had happened -- really had -- was a fact that sternly patrolled his room .