one o'clock
What malign influences were these at work , hurrying him on to destruction , and not leaving a single loophole of escape ? Who would believe the story of his innocent ramble on the turnpike that Tuesday night ? Who could doubt that he had gone directly from the Slocums ' to Welch 's Court , and then crept home red-handed through the deserted streets ? Richard heard the steam-whistles recalling the operatives to work , and dimly understood it was one o'clock ; but after that he paid no attention to the lapse of time . It was an hour later , perhaps two hours , -- Richard could not tell , -- when he roused himself from his stupor , and descending the stairs passed through the kitchen into the scullery . There he halted and leaned against the sink , irresolute , as though his purpose , if he had had a purpose , were escaping him . He stood with his eyes resting listlessly on a barrel in the further corner of the apartment .