ten o'clock
I could not talk , and I dared not think , so I shouted for a sing-song , and my shipmates -LRB- who had been a little low at seeing me so silent -RRB- jumped at the proposal like schoolboys let loose from school . Of course O'Sullivan gave us `` The Minsthrel Boy '' ; and Treacle sang `` Yew are the enny '' ; and then I , yes I -LRB- Oh , God ! -RRB- , sang `` Sally 's the gel , '' and every man of my company joined in the ridiculous chorus . Towards ten o'clock we changed lines on the loop at Waterloo and ran into Charing Cross , where we found another and still bigger crowd of hearty people behind a barrier , with a group of my committee , my fellow explorers , and geographers in general , waiting on the platform . I could not help it if I made a poor return to their warm-hearted congratulations , for my eyes were once more searching for a face I could not see , so that I was glad and relieved when I heard the superintendent say that the motor-car that was to take me to the hotel was ready and waiting . But just then O'Sullivan came up and whispered that a priest and a nun were asking to speak to me , and he believed they had news of Mary . The priest proved to be dear old Father Dan , and the nun to be Sister Veronica , whom my dear one calls Mildred .