nine o'clock
Tweet folded his precious paper , crammed it his pocket , and left the room . A few minutes afterward Hiram followed . He ate lunch and dinner in one , then strolled about the city , dreaming of Lucy and fretfully counting the hours till he might expect to feast his material eyes on her again . At nine o'clock he returned to the lodging house , made sure that Tweet was not in the lounging room , and went to bed . Next morning , close to nine o'clock , he was shifting from one foot to the other before the cashier 's counter in the restaurant . From the little window inclosure came the clicking of typewriter keys , a little more spirited than before . Hiram had strategically chosen the slack business hour of the morning .