The fretwork hands stood at five past four.In the dying light of the December day the bronze face of the clock on the shelf looked black.
(The First Circle..Alexander Solzhenitsyn)

On top of it all the cancer wing was "number thirteen". (Cancer Ward

,,,,,A. Solzhenitsyn)

Mr Jones ,of the Manor Farm,had locked the hen-houses for the night,but was too drunk to remember to shut the pop-holes.
(Animal Farm....George Orwell.)