midday
This way , please . ' Fenwick pursued his course to Oxford Street in a morbid self-consciousness . It seemed to him that all the world knew him by now for a failure and a bankrupt ; that he was stared and pointed at . He took refuge from this nightmare in an Oxford Street restaurant , and as he ate his midday chop he asked himself , for the hundredth time , how the deuce it was that he had got into the debts which weighed him down . He had been extravagant on the building and furnishing of his house -- but after all he had earned large sums of money . He sat gloomily over his meal -- frowning -- and trying to remember . And once , amid the foggy darkness , there opened a vision of a Westmoreland stream , and a pleading face upturned to his in the moonlight -- ` And then , you know , I could look after money !