noon of evening
Lamps became lanterns , shedding a muffled light , deepening and charging with mystery the darkness beyond . Old friends grew unfamiliar . Where they had stood , fantastic shapes loomed out of the mist and topless towers rose up spectral to baffle memory . Perspective fled , shadow and stuff were one , and , save where the radiance of the shops in some proud thoroughfare made gaudy noon of evening , the streets of Town were changed to echoing halls and long , dim , rambling galleries , hung all with twinkling lights that stabbed the gloom but deep enough to show their presence , as do the stars . So , slowly and with a dazzling smile , London put on her cloak of darkness . By eight o'clock you could not see two paces ahead . On Wednesday morning the fog was denser than it had been the night before .