Imprisoned in a Word

Here I am in my Ivory Tower. Do you see that Turret on the right - that's the one - well that's me (the recluse) by the window in the east wing. The light is fading.
Have I written any more of the novel? Yes I have.
Do I like what I've written? Well, yes ... yes I do, actually.
So am I ready to mail it off to the agent?

Oh Gawd...

That elusive last sentence for chapter three is all that falls between me and the slush pile.

Now this could take some time...