five o'clock
IT was the night that Mona Meeks , the dressmaker , told him she did n't love him . He could n't believe it at first , because he had so long been accustomed to the idea that she did , and no matter how rough the weather or how irascible the passengers , he felt a song in his heart as he punched transfers , and rang his bell punch , and signalled the driver when to let people off and on . Now , suddenly , with no reason except a woman 's , she had changed her mind . He dropped in to see her at five o'clock , just before time for the night shift , and to give her two red apples he had been saving for her . She looked at the apples as if they were invisible and she could not see them , and standing in her disorderly little dressmaking parlor , with its cuttings and scraps and litter of fabrics , she said : `` It is no use , John . I shall have to work here like this all my life -- work here alone . For I do n't love you , John .