noon
The master-player did not reply , but strode on rapidly , gnawing his mustache . It was a cold , raw day . All morning long the sun had shone through the choking fog as the candle-flame through the dingy yellow horn of an old stable-lantern . But at noon a wind sprang up that drove the mist through London streets in streaks and strings mixed with smoke and the reek of steaming roofs . Now and then the blue gleamed through in ragged patches overhead ; so that all the town turned out on pleasure bent , not minding if it rained stewed turnips , so they saw the sky . But the fog still sifted through the streets , and all was damp and sticky to the touch , so Cicely was left behind to loneliness and disappointment . Nick and the master-player came down Ludgate Hill to Blackfriars landing in a stream of merrymakers , high and low , rich and poor , faring forth to London 's greatest thoroughfare , the Thames ; and as the river and the noble mansions along the Strand came into view , Nick 's heart beat fast .