one o'clock in the morning
Apparently I was observed ; there was a light sound of footsteps from the invisible porch and the creaking , followed by the shutting , of the front door . Immediately afterwards the light was extinguished . The person who had been on the porch had moved so quickly and so quietly , and the street , drenched in the July moonlight , seemed so still , that I wondered a moment later whether to credit my senses . At any rate , it was not my business , I concluded , to stand staring at a strange house at one o'clock in the morning , and I resumed my walk home . A week later , a change in the routine of my daily life made me a regular visitant in the neighborhood . Twice a day I passed the Drainger house . In the morning it seemed to resist the genial sunlight , drawing its hedge of shade trees closer about it and remaining impervious to all suggestions of warmth .