six o'clock
What a fool he had been to dream that so wrong a step as he had once taken could lead him to perfect peace . Thinking these thoughts , how could he , as yet , comprehend the wrong he was doing Lynda ? Why , he was grieving over her , almost breaking his heart in his desire to do something -- anything -- to free her from the results of her useless sacrifice . At six o'clock Truedale went downstairs , but the house was empty . Lynda had gone , taking all sense of home with her . He did not wait to see what the dinner hour might bring about ; he could not trust himself just then . Indeed -- having blasted every familiar landmark -- he was utterly and hopelessly lost .