eight o'clock
Oh , if she 's turned that boy against me , I 'll -- '' He did not finish the threat , but started off swiftly through the night toward the Cable home . He had no especial object in view ; it was simply impossible for him to conquer the impulse to be near his son . Like a thief he lurked about the street in the vicinity of Cable 's house , standing in the shadows , crossing and recrossing the street many times , always watching the lighted windows with hateful eyes . It was after eight o'clock and the night was damp with the first breath of spring . There was a slight chill in the air , but he did not feel it , although he was without an overcoat . The lights on the second floor , he knew , were in Mrs. Cable 's room . In his mind 's eye , he could see Graydon there with the others listening to the story as it fell from prejudiced , condemning lips -- the pathetic , persuasive lips of a sick woman .