a quarter to seven
On the Monday morning the boy got up at six to start work . He had the season-ticket , which had cost such bitterness , in his waistcoat pocket . He loved it with its bars of yellow across . His mother packed his dinner in a small , shut-up basket , and he set off at a quarter to seven to catch the 7.15 train . Mrs. Morel came to the entry-end to see him off . It was a perfect morning . From the ash-tree the slender green fruits that the children call `` pigeons '' were twinkling gaily down on a little breeze , into the front gardens of the houses .