Explore "Murder by the Clock" by Rufus King on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
O'Brian stirred a bit restlessly in his chair by the hall door and yawned; then he looked at his watch. It was almost a quarter past two. He began to enumerate the various things he would give for a good cup of strong black coffee, and his shirt headed the list. Or, if not coffee, some excitement to keep him awake.
The telephone jangled.