midnight
The others seemed demented ; one man on the platform had dropped dead from nervous exhaustion , but no one appeared to care ; and the body lay huddled beneath a seat . Again and again Percy had been swept away by a rush , as he struggled from platform to platform in his search for a car that would take him to Croydon . It seemed that there was none to be had , and the useless carriages collected like drift-wood between the platforms , as others whirled up from the country bringing loads of frantic , delirious men , who vanished like smoke from the white rubber-boards . The platforms were continually crowded , and as continually emptied , and it was not until half-an-hour before midnight that the block began to move outwards again . Well , he was here at last , dishevelled , hatless and exhausted , looking up at the dark windows . He scarcely knew what he thought of the whole matter . War , of course , was terrible .