Four o'clock
I tell you I _ know _ ! There 's sanity and will and grit to balance the rest . '' Well , Philip Poynter was a staunch optimist with oppressive ideals , a splendid , free-handed fellow with brains and will and infernal persistence . Four o'clock and the log dying ! The city outside was a dark , clinking world of milkmen and doubtful stragglers , Carl finished the whiskey in his glass and rose . His brain was very drunk -- that he knew -- for every life current in his body swept dizzily to his forehead , focusing there into whirling inferno , but his legs he could always trust . He stepped to the table and lurched heavily .