3 o'clock in the afternoon
Soft rugs covered the floor , and costly paintings hung on the walls . The chairs and desk , the huge couch , would have graced a palace , and a piece of priceless tapestry partly overhung the big safe at one end . An incandescent lamp was burning brightly , for very little light entered from the dreary court on which a single window opened . Here , at 3 o'clock in the afternoon , Stephen Foster sat poring over a sheaf of papers . He was a man of fifty-two , nearly six feet tall and correspondingly built -- a man with a fine head and handsome features , a man to attract more than ordinary attention . His hands were white , slim and long . His eyes were deep brown , and his mustache and beard -- the latter cut to a point -- were of a tawny yellowish-brown color , mixed with gray to a slight degree .