three o'clock in the morning
`` It does me good to look at you , '' she said . PAUL leaned back in his leather writing chair , smoking a cigarette and focussing the electioneering situation . Beside a sheet of foolscap on which he had been jotting down notes lay in neat piles the typewritten Report of the Forlorn Widows ' Fund , the account book and the banker 's pass book . He had sat up till three o'clock in the morning preparing for his Princess . Nothing now remained but the formal `` examined and found correct '' report of the auditors . For the moment the Forlorn Widows stood leagues away from Paul 's thoughts . He had passed a strenuous day at Hickney Heath , lunching in the committee room on sandwiches and whisky and soda obtained from the nearest tavern , talking , inventing , dictating , writing , playing upon dull minds the flashes of his organizing genius .