ten minutes to seven
He hung about the shopping districts , and prowled around in department stores with his invitations to dinner . Men who escort dogs upon the streets at the end of a string look down upon him . He is a type ; I can dwell upon him no longer ; my pen is not the kind intended for him ; I am no carpenter . At ten minutes to seven Dulcie was ready . She looked at herself in the wrinkly mirror . The reflection was satisfactory . The dark blue dress , fitting without a wrinkle , the hat with its jaunty black feather , the but-slightly-soiled gloves -- all representing self-denial , even of food itself -- were vastly becoming .