five o'clock
But instead of doing so , Mrs. Trapes sank down in the chair beside the table and bowed her head in her hands . `` Hermy , '' said she , `` oh , my lamb , he 's gone ! You left Arthur in my care an ' -- he 's gone , an ' it 's my fault . Went away at five o'clock , an ' here it is nigh on to ten -- an ' him sick ! God knows I 've searched for him -- tramped to th ' ferry an ' back , an ' th ' footmen they 've looked for him an ' so have th ' maids -- but Arthur 's gone -- an ' it 's my fault ! So , Hermy -- my dear -- blame me an ' let me go -- '' The harsh voice broke and , bowing her head , she sat silent , touching the unopened packet of jewellery with one long , bony finger . `` Why , Ann -- dear Ann -- you 're crying ! ''