To me, this Ian Martin play was always a study and of and allegory to addiction.  Although someone else paid a higher price, look how Beal's character had to steal to support his peculiar, deadly "habit" much like someone addicted to drugs, and how he reached a point where he couldn't live with what he was doing.  Two sections of this play that are the RMT at its finest: A) when he's describing the clock's workings and appearance, talking about "wooden pinions, wooden gears" with that eerie soundtrack behind him, and; B) Beal's voice, (and the soundtrack behind it) as he starts the clock up again saying "It's heart was beating!".  Brilliance in dramatic, albeit fatalistic, radio production.