eight o'clock in the evening
Ashamed to face Mrs. Peedles or even the slavey , I kept to my room , with the door locked . At dusk , feeling a little better -- or , rather , less bad , I stole out and indulged in a simple meal , consisting of tea without sugar and a kippered herring , at a neighbouring coffee-house . Another gentleman , taking his seat opposite to me and ordering hot buttered toast , I left hastily . At eight o'clock in the evening Minikin called round from the office to know what had happened . Seeking help from shame , I confessed to him the truth . `` Thought as much , '' he answered . `` Seems to have been an A1 from the look of you . ''