six o'clock
_ '' at her , she would merely shrug her shoulders and say '' _ Andate presto ! _ '' to show him she was above quarrelling with a cabman . She ate eggs and bread , and drank the red wine , never having conquered her disgust for Italian meat since first she saw the filthy carcasses , fly-infested , dust-covered , loathsome , being carted through the swarming streets . It was six o'clock of an evening early in March when Mary Gowd went home to the murky little room in the Via Babbuino . She was too tired to notice the sunset . She was too tired to smile at the red-eyed baby of the cobbler 's wife , who lived in the rear . She was too tired to ask Tina for the letters that seldom came .