four o'clock
Then again he could sweep his eyes around the interior without being detected -- there was no telling what might happen : some day there might be a sale , and then it would be just as well to know where things like these could be found . Again he tiptoed across the spacious room , stopping to gaze at the rich tapestries lining the walls , examining with eye-glass held close the gold snuffboxes and rare bits of Sèvres and Dresden on the shelves of the cabinet , and testing with his nervous fingers the quality of the rich Utrecht velvet screening the door of an adjoining room . Gregg kept at work , his square , strong shoulders , well-knit back and straight limbs -- a fulfilment of the promise of his youth -- in silhouette against the glare of the overhead light , its rays silvering his iron-gray hair and the tips of his upturned mustache . The tour of the room complete , the little man again bowed to the floor and said in his softest voice : `` And you will receive him at four o'clock ? '' `` Yes , at four o'clock , '' answered Gregg , his eyes still on the canvas . Again the little man 's head bent low as he backed from the room . There was no need of further talk .