Two o'clock
The adorable beauty of his dear bride , her pure heavenly face , swam before him . Thinking of her , he lost sight of the mignonne who had made him giddy . He walked to Richard 's hotel , and up and down the street there , hoping every minute to hear his step ; sometimes fancying he might have returned and gone to bed . Two o'clock struck . Ripton could not go away . He was sure he should not sleep if he did . At last the cold sent him homeward , and leaving the street , on the moonlight side of Piccadilly he met his friend patrolling with his head up and that swing of the feet proper to men who are chanting verses .