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Just after the clock struck nine on Monday morning, a strange stillness descended on the halls of Parliament House.
All eyes were focussed on one room at the far end of a corridor on the ground floor of the House of Representatives side.
Inside, 101 Liberal MPs had gathered to decide a Prime Minister's fate.
Journalists, normally free to roam the building, were herded into roped-off pens along the corridor, to wait for news, while security guards watched for jail breakers.
But down, down on the basement level of Parliament, there was movement at the station.
Two of Tony Abbott's media advisers and a prime ministerial security guard were making their way through the labyrinthine tunnels that cover the underside of the complex.
As they journeyed down a corridor, not far from the Liberal party room, they bumped into an Australian Financial Review journalist, who was taking a short cut to the office.
There was a nervous, giggly greeting from the PM's staffers. And an awkward "oh hi there," shrug.
Surely they weren't getting in position to whisk Abbott back to his office on the off-chance he lost?
The basement would certainly provide more privacy than Kevin Rudd's teary walk through Parliament in June 2010.
Then again, if there was any doubt about the outcome of the Liberal spill vote, surely that evaporated when MPs arrived for the meeting?
Madam Speaker Bronwyn Bishop was one of the first to arrive. Resplendent in national flag blue, she entered with a fixed smile. When asked who she thought would win, she muttered something about Australia's future.
Soon, Abbott turned up with his deputy, Julie Bishop, at his side and a never ending phalanx of frontbenchers and backbenchers. They trooped past the media enclosure, staring straight ahead, their footsteps thumping the parquetry in defiance.
Malcolm Turnbull, the assumed challenger, strolled in on his own, twirling a pair of spectacles.
MPs took their usual places. Turnbull sat on the couches to the side with the rest of the frontbenchers. Julie Bishop was behind the desk at the front, next to the Prime Minister.
As the chair of the meeting, Abbott made the briefest of welcome remarks, before handing over to Chief Government Whip Philip Ruddock.
From here, the room took a deep breath. Previously, MPs had been greeting each other after the summer break, catching up on holiday news. But when a roll call was taken, the cheerful chatter stopped.
Ballot papers were handed out and MPs were required to write a simple "yes" or "no", before placing them in one of the small wooden ballot boxes that had been brought in for the occasion.
The votes where taken into an adjoining tea room for counting, while Abbott - ever the sportsman - talked quietly with the troublesome West Australian MPs, Luke Simpkins and Don Randall, who had moved the spill motion.
It must have felt like hours, but it was only minutes before Ruddock passed the result to Abbott on a piece of paper.
The Prime Minister took a moment to examine it, before coming around to the front of the desk to read out the result.
The party had voted 61 to 39 against a leadership spill.
He had held on to his job.
One MP described his expression as deadpan. Another said that on learning that nearly 40 of his own MPs had voted against him, he looked shocked.
There was lengthy applause, but not a standing ovation.
As Abbott - jacket off - sat on the desk to tell his colleagues that the future would be better, Ruddock slipped out of the party room to tell the nation they still had the same Prime Minister.
