noon
But once in a way , as now , the ghost of the past came out to haunt and brood and whisper to any human who chanced to be awake : ` Out of my unowned loneliness you all came , into it some day you will all return . ' And Soames , who felt the chill and the eeriness of that world-new to him and so very old : the world , unowned , visiting the scene of its past -- went down and made himself tea on a spirit-lamp . When he had drunk it , he took out writing materials and wrote two paragraphs : `` On the 20th instant at his residence in Park Lane , James Forsyte , in his ninety-first year . Funeral at noon on the 24th at Highgate . No flowers by request . '' `` On the 20th instant at The Shelter ; Mapledurham , Annette , wife of Soames Forsyte , of a daughter . '' And underneath on the blottingpaper he traced the word `` son . ''