six o'clock
` Ai n't you got no sense a-tall ? ` Ai n't you got no sense in that curly head of yourn but ruination notions ? '' `` Aw , Dee Dee ! '' They were in the flood tide which bursts through the dam at six o'clock like a human torrent flooding the streets , then spreading , thinning , and finally seeping into homes , hall bedrooms , and Harlem flats . Miss Edith Worte turned her sparse face toward the down-town tide and against a light wind that tasted of rain and napped her skirts around her thin legs . `` Watch out , Dee Dee ! Step down ; there 's a curb . ''