seven o’clock
It had been arranged that during the next few days he should make him acquainted with the turbulent sphere which he would have to supervise . Poor Verlaque , as Gavard called him was a pale little man , swathed in flannels , handkerchiefs , and mufflers . Constantly coughing , he made his way through the cool , moist atmosphere , and running waters of the fish market , on a pair of scraggy legs like those of a sickly child . When Florent made his appearance on the first morning , at seven o'clock , he felt quite distracted ; his eyes were dazed , his head ached with all the noise and riot . Retail dealers were already prowling about the auction pavilion ; clerks were arriving with their ledgers , and consigners ' agents , with leather bags slung over their shoulders , sat on overturned chairs by the salesmen 's desks , waiting to receive their cash . Fish was being unloaded and unpacked not only in the enclosure , but even on the footways . All along the latter were piles of small baskets , an endless arrival of cases and hampers , and sacks of mussels , from which streamlets of water trickled .