about nine o'clock
So powerful was this impression upon his sensitive nature that he caught himself saying , as of a living being , `` Oh , that I could give to that face the expression God meant it to have ! '' And then he laughed at his own folly . His watchfulness caused him to oversleep the next morning , and he was later than usual in getting through the routine duties of the store . At length , about nine o'clock , dusty and begrimed from mopping , feeding the furnace , etc. , he stood with duster and brush in hand before the painting that had so disturbed his rest . He was in his shirt-sleeves , and in careful economy had a large coarse apron of ticking girded about his person . His black , dishevelled locks looked like an inverted crow 's nest , and altogether he was unpresentable , appearing more like the presiding divinity of a dust-heap than of an `` Art Building . '' After gazing a few moments on the scornful , beautiful face that might have obtained its haughty patrician lineaments from the old barons of the ruined castle just above , he seemed to grow conscious of this himself , and shrunk behind the picture half ashamed , as if the fair girl could see him .