half past four
The broad-shouldered Wykehamist , utterly unnerved , sat by the bed trembling from head to foot . Desmond kept watch over the tourniquet . Falloden stood a little apart , in a dead silence , his eyes wandering occasionally from the figure on the bed to the open window , through which could be seen the summer sky , and a mounting sun , just touching the college roofs . The college clock struck half past four . Not two hours since Radowitz and Constance Bledlow had held the eyes of Oxford in the Magdalen ballroom . Radowitz woke up the following morning , after the effects of the dose of morphia administered by the surgeon who had dressed his hand had worn off , in a state of complete bewilderment . What had happened to him ?