four o’clock
There is a sensation like having a slide pulled from one 's head ; the shock passes in the fraction of a second . Sunshine , and rioting nasturtiums , the whole natural world , including Clementine 's puzzled brown face , were no more distinct to-day than the blue man and the woman with floating hair had been yesterday . I had seen a man who shot down to instant death in the pit under the Giant 's Stairway thirty-five years ago . I had seen a woman , who , perhaps , once thought herself intentionally and strangely deserted , seek and meet him after she had been killed at four o'clock ! This experience , set down in my note-book and repeated to no one , remains associated with the Old World scent of ginger . For I remember hearing Clementine say through a buzzing , `` You come in , madame -- you must have de hot wine and jahjah ! ''