nine in the evening
To all these trivial things and countless others , the tone of their voices -- soft , almost murmuring , with a sort of delighted gentleness -- gave a high , sweet importance , a halo that neither for the world would have dislodged from where it hovered . It was past six when he got up to go , and there had not been a moment to break the calm of that sacred feeling in both their hearts . They parted with another tranquil look , which seemed to say : ` It is well with us -- we have drunk of happiness . ' And in this same amazing calm Miltoun remained after he had gone away , till about half-past nine in the evening , he started forth , to walk down to the House . It was now that sort of warm , clear night , which in the country has firefly magic , and even over the Town spreads a dark glamour . And for Miltoun , in the delight of his new health and well-being , with every sense alive and clean , to walk through the warmth and beauty of this night was sheer pleasure . He passed by way of St. James 's Park , treading down the purple shadows of plane-tree leaves into the pools of lamplight , almost with remorse -- so beautiful , and as if alive , were they .