seven o'clock
I think not . There is always something wanting . And if a man comes by his wish basely , there is a taint of poison in the wine of life that neutralizes all its sweetness . '' At seven o'clock on Sunday evening , as the neighbouring church bells were just sounding their last peal , Mr. Fenton found himself on the threshold of Mrs. Branston 's house in Cavendish-square . It was rather a gloomy mansion , pervaded throughout with evidences of its late owner 's oriental career ; old Indian cabinets ; ponderous chairs of elaborately-carved ebony , clumsy in form and barbaric in design ; curious old china and lacquered ware of every kind , from gigantic vases to the tiniest cups and saucers ; ivory temples , and gods in silver and clay , crowded the drawing-rooms and the broad landings on the staircase . The curtains and chair-covers were of Indian embroidery ; the carpets of oriental manufacture . Everything had a gaudy semi-barbarous aspect .