about one o'clock
His thought was in ruins ; he could distinguish nothing steady or constant , could not see any order , or follow an idea , for the walls of his inward dwelling had fallen in , and through the dust which rose , it was impossible to see what remained intact . He feared there was nothing left but a mass of suffering , at which he looked with dull eyes , unconscious of his falling tears . Maxime did not come home , carried away by the excitement at Paris . Madame Clerambault had gone to bed , but about one o'clock she came and persuaded him to come up to their room , where he lay down ; but when Pauline had fallen asleep -- anxiety made her sleepy -- he got up and went into the next room . He groaned , unable to breathe ; his pain was so close and oppressive , that he had no room to draw his breath . With the prophetic hyper-sensitiveness of the artist , who often lives in tomorrow with more intensity than in the present moment , his agonised eyes and heart foresaw all that was to be . This inevitable war between the greatest nations of the world , seemed to him the failure of civilisation , the ruin of the most sacred hopes for human brotherhood .