...of unease

A profound unease held the room in thrall.
The lamps began to dim, for the first time in many long months. At last the long-awaited dawn was filling the one and only window.
A few seconds later a ray of sunlight struck Dan Yack’s head, and his monocle began to blaze.
It was as swift as it was brief. And not one of the three men gathered together in the room perceived it, for, behind the monocle, Dan Yack’s eye was shut. He was thinking bitterly: Bari chose between us, and attached himself to disease. Pfaugh!
Still Lamont lay there like a dead man and Arkadie Goischman was contemplating the shadow of his nose on the partition screen.
Bari was the only one who noticed the luminous bee that flew away as rapidly as it had entered.
Already dusk was drawing a curtain over the window and, outside, total darkness had descended once more.
The light of the lamps intensified a little.
A profound unease held the room in thrall. Not even the ticking of a clock was to be heard.
André Lamont and Dan Yack, in truth, no longer had anything to say to each other. As for Arkadie Goischman, he was squinting down at his nose.
’The sun! The sun!’ cried Ivan Sabakov, rushing into the room like a madman. ‘Danny, did you see it?’
This voice struck Dan Yack to the heart. He jumped to his feet. He wanted to say something. He dropped his monocle and it sparkled on the floor like a huge tear.
Dan Yack sat down again.
His head was spinning.
He could not say a word.

[Dan Yack, Cendras, B.]