noon
The inexorable hand of the office clock pointed sternly towards twelve , and the remorseless pendulum ticked solemnly to noon . To a man whose pleasures are not many , and rather small , the loss of such an event as saying farewell and wishing God-speed to a friend going to Europe , is a great loss . It was so to me , especially , because there was always more to me , in every departure , than the parting and the farewell . I was gradually renouncing this pleasure , as I saw small prospect of ending before noon , when Titbottom , after looking at me a moment , came to my side of the desk , and said : `` I should like to finish that for you . '' I looked at him : poor Titbottom ! he had no friends to wish God-speed upon any journey . I quietly wiped my pen , took down my hat , and went out .