nine o'clock
Lady Durwent 's dinner-party had been an expedition into the artistic fakery of London , and he would have dismissed the whole affair as a stimulating and amusing diversion from the ultra-aristocratic rut if the personality of Elise Durwent had not remained with him like a haunting melody . He looked at his watch . ` By Jove ! ' he muttered ; ` it 's nine o'clock ; ' and hurriedly completing his ablutions , he dressed and descended to breakfast . Into the row of splendidly inert houses known as Chelmsford Gardens , Austin Selwyn turned his course . A couple of saddle-horses were standing outside No. 8 , held by a groom of expressionless countenance . From No. 3 a butler emerged , looked at the morning , and retired .