about five o'clock
-- R. C. '' Craven had taken Bunker out for walks before and had grown fond of the dog . There was nothing in that . But Olva , as he stood in the middle of his room with the note in his hand , was frightened . The result of it was that about five o'clock on that afternoon Olva paid his second visit to the dark house in Rocket Road . His motives for going were confused , but he knew that at the back of them was a desire that he should find Margaret Craven , with her grave eyes , waiting for him in the musty little drawing-room , and that Mrs. Craven , that mysterious woman , should not be there . The hall , when the old servant had admitted him , once again seemed to enfold him in its darkness and heavy air with an almost active purpose . It breathed with an actual sound , almost with a melody ... the `` Valse Triste '' of Sibelius , a favourite with Olva , seemed to him now to be humming its thin spiral note amongst the skins and Chinese weapons that covered the walls .