about three o'clock
He should never have her , whoever he might be . She had been mine , and should remain so , come what might . I added a postscript , asking her to wire me permission to travel down to Hereford to see her ; then , sealing up the letter , I went out along the Marylebone Road and posted it in the pillar-box , which I knew was cleared at five o'clock in the morning . It was then about three o'clock , calm , but rather overcast . The Marylebone Road had at last become hushed in silence . Wagons and cabs had both ceased , and save for a solitary policeman here and there the long thoroughfare , so full of traffic by day , was utterly deserted . I retraced my steps slowly towards the corner of Harley Street , and was about to open the door of the house wherein I had `` diggings '' when I heard a light , hurried footstep behind me , and turning , confronted the figure of a slim woman of middle height wearing a golf cape , the hood of which had been thrown over her head in lieu of a hat .