ten o'clock
`` Fine night , ai n't it ? '' -- and shuffled on along the street . And now Jimmie Dale began to hurry -- still with that shuffling tread , but covering the ground nevertheless with amazing celerity . He had lost no time since receiving the Tocsin 's letter , it was true , but , for all that , it was now after ten o'clock . Stangeist 's house was `` dark '' that evening , she had said , meaning that the occupants , Stangeist as well as whatever servants there might be , for Stangeist had no family , were out -- the servants in town for a theatre or picture show probably -- and Stangeist himself as yet not back , presumably from that Roessle affair . The stub of an old cigar , unlighted , shifted with a sudden , savage twist of the lips from one side of Jimmie Dale 's mouth to the other . There was need for haste .