And this pressure, communicating itself to an object that lay
beneath the pillow, touched a small brass handle, jerked it forward,
released a bit of quivering wire connected with a set of wheels, and
set in motion the entire insides of this hidden object. There was a
sound of grating. This hard, metallic sound rose through the feathers,
a clicking, thudding noise that reached her brain. It was--she knew
instantly--the stopped alarum clock. It had been overwound. The weight
of her head had started it again.
Maria, as usual, by doing nothing in particular, had accomplished
much. By yielding herself to her surroundings, she united her
insignificant personal forces with the gigantic purposes of Life. She
swung contentedly in rhythm with the universe. Maria had set the clock
going again!
There was excitement in her then, but certainly no hurry. Disturbing
herself as little as possible, she pushed one hand beneath the pillow,
drew out the ticking clock, looked at it quietly, remembered sleepily
that it had stopped at dawn--Uncle Felix had said so--put it on the
chair beside her bed, and promptly retired again into her eternal
centre.
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