about five o'clock
I ai n't going to have my place get a bad name by having any South of Market Street chippies hanging around . You get along , or I 'll call an officer . '' Minna sought the street , her head in a whirl . It was about five o'clock . In her pocket was thirty-five cents , all she had in the world . What now ? All at once , the Terror of the City , that blind , unreasoned fear that only the outcast knows , swooped upon her , and clutched her vulture-wise , by the throat .