six o'clock
-- Yes , what is it , Fanny ? '' `` Major Clowes 's compliments , sir , and he would be glad to see Captain Hyde as soon as convenient . '' At Wanhope half an hour later the sun had gone down behind a bank of purple fog , and cloud after cloud had put off its vermilion glow and faded into a vague dimness of twilight : house and garden were quiet , except for the silver rippling of the river which went on and on , ceaselessly fleeting over shallows or washing along through faded sedge . These river murmurs haunted Wanhope all day and night , and so did the low river-mists : in autumn by six o'clock the grass was already ankle deep and white as a field of lilies . The tall doors were wide open now : no lamps were lit , but a big log fire blazed on the hearth , and through the empurpled evening air the house streamed with flame-light , flinging a ruddy glow over leafless acacia and misty turf . Stretched on his couch in a warm and dark angle by the staircase , Clowes was busy with his collection , examining and sorting a number of small objects which were laid out on his tray : sparks of light winked between his fingers as iron or gold or steel turned up a reflecting edge . His face as white as his hands , the wide eyes blackened by the expansion of their pupils , he looked like a ghost , but a ghost of normal habits , washed and shaved and dressed in ordinary tweeds .