noon
`` What has happened ? Where was he speaking from ? What can I do ? '' It was close upon noon , but Nicol Brinn had not yet left his chambers . From that large window which overlooked Piccadilly he surveyed the prospect with dull , lack-lustre eyes . His morning attire was at least as tightly fitting as that which he favoured in the evening , and now , hands clasped behind his back and an unlighted cigar held firmly in the left corner of his mouth , he gazed across the park with a dreamy and vacant regard . One very familiar with this strange and taciturn man might have observed that his sallow features looked even more gaunt than usual .