five o'clock
How beautifully that warm brown sail stands out in a curve against the cold grey line of the horizon -- a bulging curve just like the swell of Selah 's neck , when she throws her head back , so , and lets you see the contour of her throat , her beautiful rounded throat -- ah , that 's not giving her up now , is it ? -- What a confounded fool I am , to be sure ! Anybody would say , if they could only have read my thoughts that moment , that I was really in love with this girl Selah ! ' The old Englischer Hof at Pontresina looked decidedly sleepy and misty at five o'clock on an August morning , when two sturdy British holiday-seekers , in knickerbockers and regular Alpine climbing rig , sat drinking their parting cup of coffee in the salle-à-manger , before starting to make the ascent of the Piz Margatsch , one of the tallest and by far the most difficult among the peaks of the Bernina range . There are few prettier villages in the Engadine than Pontresina , and few better hotels in all Switzerland than the old ivy-covered Englischer Hof . Yet on this particular morning , and at that particular hour , it certainly did look just a trifle cold and cheerless . ` He never makes very warm in the Engadine , ' Carlo the waiter observed with a shudder , in his best English , to one of the two early risers : ` and he makes colder on an August morning here than he makes at Nice in full December . '