midnight
One was addressed to `` Miss Madge Foster , Strand-on-the-Green , Chiswick , W. '' The other to `` Sir Lucius Chesney , Morley 's Hotel . '' * * * * * It was ten o'clock in the morning , and the phenomenal November weather showed no signs of breaking up . The sun shone brightly in Trafalgar Square , and the people and busses , the hoary old Nelson Column and its guardian lions , made a picture more Continental than English in its coloring . But to Sir Lucius Chesney the world looked as black as midnight . He paced the floor of his room , purple of countenance and savage of eye , letting slip an occasional oath as he glanced at the sheets of Jimmie 's letter scattered over the table . The blow had hit him hard ; it had wounded him in his most tender spot -- his family honor . His first paroxysm of rage had passed , but he could not think calmly .