the hour of one
Aye , and not because she would endure was it the less lamentable that the young lives within her walls were like to be taken . My equanimity was gone ; and a tear fell on Oxford . And then , as though Oxford herself were speaking up to me , the air vibrated with a sweet noise of music . It was the hour of one ; the end of the Duke 's hour of grace . Through the silvery tangle of sounds from other clocks I floated quickly down to the Broad . I had on the way a horrible apprehension . What if the Duke , in his agony , had taken the one means to forgetfulness ?