twelve o'clock
what a night ! And I used to grumble about Hogley Marsh ! Why , it 's like living in a drain ! '' Ramillies Street , W.C. , was certainly not attractive at twelve o'clock on that December night , for it had been snowing in the early part of the evening ; that snow was suffering from a fall of blacks : and as evil communications corrupt good manners , the evil communication of the London soot was corrupting the good manners of the heavenly snow , which had become smirched by the town 's embrace , and was sorrowfully weeping itself away in tears beneath a sky -- No , there was not any sky . For four days there had not been a breath of air to dissipate the heavy mist , and into this mist the smoke of a million chimneys had rolled , mingled , and settled down in the streets in one horrible yellowish-black mirk . There were gas lamps in Ramillies Street -- here and there distinguishing themselves by a faint glow overhead ; but John Whyley , policeman on the beat , was hardly aware of their existence till he laid his hand upon each post . `` Now , only that Burglar Bill and Company are n't such fools as to come out on such a night as this , here 's their chance .