closely....

And now he began to be aware of a certain quite indefinable change in
the face at which he looked. The eyes were open--no, it was not in
them that the change lay, nor in the lines about the mouth, so far as
he could see them, nor in any detail, anywhere. Neither was it the
face of a dreamer or a sleepwalker, or of the dead, when the lines
disappear and life retires. It was a living, conscious face, yet it
was changed. The lips were slightly parted, and the breath came evenly
between them. It was more like the face of one lost in deep, absorbed,
introspective thought. Laurie decided that this was the explanation.

He looked at the hand on the paper--well shaped, brownish,
capable--perfectly motionless, the pencil held lightly between the
finger and thumb.

Then he glanced up at the two ladies.

They too were perfectly motionless, but there was no change in them.
The eyes of both were downcast, fixed steadily upon the paper. And as
he looked he saw Lady Laura begin to lift her lids slowly as if to
glance at him. He looked himself upon the paper and the motionless
fingers.

He was astonished at the speed with which the situation had developed.
Five minutes ago he had been listening to talk, and joining in it.
The clergyman had been here; he himself had been sitting a yard
further back. Now they sat here as if they had sat for an hour. It
seemed that the progress of events had stopped....

Then he began to listen for the sounds of the world outside, for
within here it seemed as if a silence of a very strange quality had
suddenly descended and enveloped them. It was as if a section--that
place in which he sat--had been cut out of time and space. It was
apart here, it was different altogether....

He began to be intensely and minutely conscious of the world
outside--so entirely conscious that he lost all perception of that at
which he stared; whether it was the paper, or the strong, motionless
hand, or the introspective face, he was afterwards unaware. But he
heard all the quiet roar of the London evening, and was able to
distinguish even the note of each instrument that helped to make up
that untiring, inconclusive orchestra. Far away to the northwards
sounded a great thoroughfare, the rolling of wheels, a myriad hoofs,
the pulse of motor vehicles, and the cries of street boys; upon all
these his attention dwelt as they came up through the outward windows
into that dead silent, lamp-lit room of which he