eight o'clock
In Monte Carlo my husband 's vices seemed to me to grow rank and fast . The gambling fever took complete possession of him . At first he won and then he drank heavily , but afterwards he lost and then his nature became still more ugly and repulsive . One evening towards eight o'clock , I was in my room , trying to comfort a broken-winged pigeon which had come floundering through the open window , when my husband entered with wild eyes . `` The red 's coming up at all the tables , '' he cried breathlessly . `` Give me some money , quick ! '' I told him I had no money except the few gold pieces in my purse .