four o'clock before
For twenty-five years Cornelius Allendyce had worn nothing but black ties . On the morning of his contemplated invasion of Patchin Place in search of a Forsyth heir he knotted a lavender scarf about his neck and felt oddly excited . Such a sudden and unexplainable impulse , he thought , must portend adventure . With a notion that all artists were `` at home '' at tea time , Mr. Allendyce waited until four o'clock before he approached his agreeable task . At the door of 22 Patchin Place he dismissed his taxicab and stood for a moment surveying the dilapidated front of the building -- with a moment 's mental picture of the magnificent pile that was Gray Manor . A pretentious though slightly soiled register just inside the doorway , told him that `` James Forsyth '' lived on the fifth floor , so the little man toiled resolutely up the narrow , steep stairway , puffing as he ascended . It was necessary to count the landings to know , in the dimness of the hallway , when he reached the fifth floor .