three o'clock
Pray never leave me , ' How could you treat a poor maiden so ! '' _ His pockets were more full than ever of knives and string and buttons . His smile when he was happy lightened his face , changing the lines of it , making it if not handsome pleasant and friendly . He would talk to himself in English , ruffling his hands through his hair : `` And then , at three o'clock I must go with Andrey Vassilievitch ... '' or `` I wonder whether she 'll mind if I ask -- '' He had a large briar pipe at which he puffed furiously , but could not smoke without an endless procession of matches that afterwards littered the floor around him . `` The tobacco 's damp , '' he explained to us a hundred times . `` It 's better damp ... '' Then , quite suddenly , the blow fell . One evening , as they were standing alone together in the yard watching the yellow sky die into dusk , without any preparation , she spoke to him .