The Count of Monte Cristo

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leaving stamped upon the prisoner's mind the dim reflection of the
dripping walls of his dungeon.

Dantes was alone in darkness and in silence--cold as the shadows that
he felt breathe on his burning forehead. With the first dawn of day the
jailer returned, with orders to leave Dantes where he was. He found the
prisoner in the same position, as if fixed there, his eyes swollen with
weeping. He had passed the night standing, and without sleep. The jailer
advanced; Dantes appeared not to perceive him. He touched him on the
shoulder. Edmond started.

"Have you not slept?" said the jailer.

"I do not know," replied Dantes. The jailer stared.

"Are you hungry?" continued he.