Tom glared at the door that more was his barrier. Once more, hope, he raised his hand to latch and pressed it. As usual, could not move it; his fingers to have no substance. Then, in , he pressed with all imaginable might: knitted his brows, and brought all will upon the latch, until he that something had to happen. It : his fingers began to go through latch, as though the latch, not fingers, were without substance. His fingers through the ironwork of the latch , and his hand fell back into by his side.