nine o'clock at night
When closing-time came Trent had made 100,000 pounds , and was looked upon everywhere as one of the rocks of finance . Only then he began to realise what the strain had been to him . His hard , impassive look had never altered , he had been seen everywhere in his accustomed City haunts , his hat a little better brushed than usual , his clothes a little more carefully put on , his buttonhole more obvious and his laugh readier . No one guessed the agony through which he had passed , no one knew that he had spent the night at a little inn twelve miles away , to which he had walked after nine o'clock at night . He had not a single confidant , even his cashier had no idea whence came the large sums of money which he had paid away right and left . But when it was all over he left the City , and , leaning back in the corner of his little brougham , was driven away to Pont Street . Here he locked himself in his room , took off his coat and threw himself upon a sofa with a big cigar between his teeth .