about six o’clock
in the morning
It was Saturday night in the January of 1900 , verging toward twelve o'clock . When she entered her room , she saw that one of the windows was open , and she stood a moment or two at it , looking across the straight miles of white lights , in whose illumined shadows thousands of sleepers were holding their lives in pause . `` It is not New York at all , '' she whispered , `` it is some magical city that I have seen , but have never trod . It will vanish about six o'clock in the morning , and there will be only common streets , full of common people . Of course , '' and here she closed the window and leisurely removed her opera cloak , `` of course , this is only dreaming , but to dream waking , or to dream sleeping , is very pleasant . In dreams we can have men as we like them , and women as we want them , and make all the world happy and beautiful . '' She was in no hurry of feeling or movement .