six o'clock
There was a young Italian whom I knew -- yes , I knew him well . He had just arrived in London ; very handsome in the face , though perhaps a little too fat . He fell in love with an elegant young lady who was employed in the establishment of Madame Elise in Bond Street . He used to wait for her to come out at six o'clock and follow her like a dog , not daring to speak . He carried a costly bracelet for her in his pocket , and every day fresh flowers , which he was always too shy and too deeply enamoured to present . She was his angel , his ideal . He dreamt of her by day and night , wondering whether he would ever have the courage to address so tall and queenly a creature .