one o'clock in the
morning
Marshall talked louder . I insinuated that he had been drinking , to which he replied that the Fridays never served anything but weak punch . I should have protested further , but Mrs. Markham 's door opened at the head of the stairs and I heard her breathing indignantly . For the sake of quiet I consented , and so it happened that at one o'clock in the morning I found myself in the street , with my arm tucked under Marshall 's and our faces set toward O'Corrigan 's chop-house . O'Corrigan 's has been torn down these many years , but you can see a score of replicas of it on upper Sixth Avenue and Broadway . Its plate-glass windows were adorned with set pieces of lobsters and oysters , celery and apples , and you entered through a revolving door into an atmosphere laden heavily with kitchen fumes , into a room which multiplied itself in many mirrors . When you went there for the first time the man who took you , if he knew his New York , would tell you of O'Corrigan 's rise from waiting at a downtown lunch-counter to the ownership of these glittering halls .