seven
o’clock
`` Who was it ? '' `` Myself . '' `` Have you ever thought what is love and what is passion ? '' It was the man who spoke as they leaned against the rail of that afternoon steamer which is scheduled to make port at the Quai by seven o'clock , at the Gare by seven-ten . Rosina simply shook her head . `` I am going to tell you that , '' he said , turning his dark gaze down upon the shadows in the wake behind them ; `` we part perhaps this night , and I have a fancy to talk of just that . Perhaps it will come that we never meet again , but when you love you will think of what I have say . ''