six o'clock in the evening
There was , however , in reality , no mystery about it . The _ Beacon _ was a newspaper , published weekly , and the clock of St. Dunstan 's striking seven told the end of another week . The publishing day was past ; another week with its work and pleasure was to be faced . From early morning until six o'clock in the evening this narrow doorway and passage had been crowded by a heaving , swearing , laughing mass of more or less dilapidated humanity interested in the retail sale of newspapers . At six o'clock Ephraim Bander , a retired constable , now on the staff of the _ Beacon _ , had taken his station at the door , in order to greet would-be purchasers with the laconic and discouraging words : `` Sold hout ! '' During the last two years ex-constable Bander had announced the selling `` hout '' of the _ Beacon _ every Tuesday evening . At seven o'clock Mrs. Bander emerged from her den on the fourth floor , like a portly good-natured spider , and with a broom proceeded to attack the dust shaken from the boots of the journalistic fraternity , with noisy energy .