Two o'clock
` If I let you go , will you come and lunch with me at two ? ' said Quintin . To get rid of him , Dacier nodded and agreed . ` Two o'clock , mind ! ' was bawled at his heels as he walked off with his long stride , unceremoniously leaving the pursy gentleman of sixty to settle with his cabman far to the rear . When we are losing balance on a precipice we do not think much of the thing we have clutched for support . Our balance is restored and we have not fallen ; that is the comfortable reflection : we stand as others do , and we will for the future be warned to avoid the dizzy stations which cry for resources beyond a common equilibrium , and where a slip precipitates us to ruin .