nine o'clock
But the cabby did not hear , or perhaps did not care to . We jogged comfortably along , to my relief , leaving the young man far behind . I avoid reporters on principle , having learned long ago that I am an easy mark for a clever interviewer . It was perhaps nine o'clock when I left the station . Our way was along the boulevard which hugged the side of one of the city 's great hills . Far below , to the left , lay the railroad tracks and the seventy times seven looming stacks of the mills . The white mist of the river , the grays and blacks of the smoke blended into a half-revealing haze , dotted here and there with fire .