three o'clock
`` And it could n't ` a ' been me ! '' `` Little Jingle Bells ? '' `` Why , y-yes , I -- I 'm on . '' At three o'clock on Wednesday afternoon , in a magistrate 's office , beneath a framed engraving of a judicial court in wigged session , Herman Schulien Loeb and Sadie Helen Mosher became as one . A bar of scant metropolitan sunshine , miraculously let in by a cleft between two skyscrapers , lay at the feet of the bride . Slightly arear of them : Mr. Louis Slupsky ; Mr. Samuel Kahn , with a tinge the color of apoplexy in his face ; and Miss Sylvette de Long , her face thrust forward as if she heard melody . The voice of the magistrate rose like a bird in slow flight , then settled to a brief drone .