For the best part of one winter night himself and satellites were busied about Moore. There at his bedside, shut up alone with him in his chamber, they wrought and wrangled over his exhausted frame. They three were on one side of the bed, and Death on the other. The conflict was sharp; it lasted till day broke, when the balance between the belligerents seemed so equal that both parties might have claimed the victory.

For the best part of one winter night he and two male assistants were busied about Moore. Shut up alone with him in his chamber, they wrangled with Death over his exhausted frame. The conflict was sharp; it lasted till dawn.
