six
o’clock
I led the same secretly unhappy life ; but I led it in the same lonely , self-reliant manner . The only changes I am conscious of are , firstly , that I had grown more shabby , and secondly , that I was now relieved of much of the weight of Mr. and Mrs. Micawber 's cares ; for some relatives or friends had engaged to help them at their present pass , and they lived more comfortably in the prison than they had lived for a long while out of it . I used to breakfast with them now , in virtue of some arrangement , of which I have forgotten the details . I forget , too , at what hour the gates were opened in the morning , admitting of my going in ; but I know that I was often up at six o'clock , and that my favourite lounging-place in the interval was old London Bridge , where I was wont to sit in one of the stone recesses , watching the people going by , or to look over the balustrades at the sun shining in the water , and lighting up the golden flame on the top of the Monument . The Orfling met me here sometimes , to be told some astonishing fictions respecting the wharves and the Tower ; of which I can say no more than that I hope I believed them myself . In the evening I used to go back to the prison , and walk up and down the parade with Mr. Micawber ; or play casino with Mrs. Micawber , and hear reminiscences of her papa and mama . Whether Mr. Murdstone knew where I was , I am unable to say .