about eight o’clock
It is a fancy I have . Let me bear it . ' Miss Temple gave the flower to the Count , who rode off with his prize . It was about eight o'clock : Ferdinand was sitting alone in his room , having just parted with Glastonbury , who was going to dine in Brook-street . The sun had set , and yet it was scarcely dark enough for artificial light , particularly for a person without a pursuit . It was just that dreary dismal moment , when even the most gay grow pensive , if they be alone . And Ferdinand was particularly dull ; a reaction had followed the excitement of the last eight-and-forty hours , and he was at this moment feeling singularly disconsolate , and upbraiding himself for being so weak as to permit himself to be influenced by Mirabel 's fantastic promises and projects , when his door flew open , and the Count , full dressed , and graceful as a Versailles Apollo , stood before him .