about nine o'clock
Instinctively I knew it would be of no use to appeal to my father , for though it was possible that he might knock my husband down , it was not conceivable that he would encourage me to separate from him . In my loneliness and helplessness I felt like a shipwrecked sailor , who , having broken away from the foundering vessel that would have sucked him under , is yet tossing on a raft with the threatening ocean on every side , and looking vainly for a sail . At last I thought of Mr. Curphy , my father 's advocate , and decided to send a telegram to him asking for the name of some solicitor in London to whom I could apply for advice . To carry out this intention I went down to the hall about nine o'clock , when people were passing into the breakfast-room , and visitors were calling at the bureau , and livened page-boys were shouting names in the corridors . There was a little writing-room at one side of the hall and I sat there to write my telegram . It ran -- `` Please send name and address reliable solicitor London whom I can consult on important business . '' I was holding the telegraph-form in my hand and reading my message again and again to make sure that it would lead to no mischief , when I began to think of Martin Conrad .