eight o'clock
There was nothing to be done but to inform the Baron himself , without delay , since Malipieri was apparently already gone out . The Baron would take the responsibility , since the house was his . The porter went down to his lodge , took off his old linen jacket and put on his best coat and cap , put some change into his pocket , went out and turned the key of the lock in the postern , and then stumped off towards the Piazza Sant ' Apollinare to get a cab , for there was no time to be lost . It was eight o'clock when he rang at the smart new house in the Via Ludovisi . Sabina and Malipieri had slept barely five hours . A footman in an apron opened the door , and without waiting to know his business , asked him why he did not go to the servants ' entrance . `` I live in a palace where there is a porter , '' answered the old man , assuming the overpowering manner that belongs to the retainers of really great old Roman houses .