One o'clock
Gianesi came in , walked upstairs to his bedroom , and shut his door ; in half an hour he also was snoring ; it was a nasal trio . Merton ` drove the night along , ' like Dr. Johnson , by repeating Latin and other verses . He dared not turn on the light of his portable electric lamp and read ; he was afraid to smoke ; he heard the owls towhitting and towhooing from the woods , and the clock on the Castle tower striking the quarters and the hours . One o'clock passed , two o'clock passed , a quarter after two , then the bell of the wireless machine rang , the machine began to tick ; Merton sat tight , listening . All the curtains of the windows were drawn , the room was almost perfectly dark ; the snorings had sometimes lulled , sometimes revived . Merton lay behind the curtains on the window-seat , facing the door . He knew , almost without the help of his ears , that the door was slowly , slowly opening .