eight o’clock
I rose to open the door , and exchanged a last meaning look with her , as she bowed and went by me . Little did I think that I should have to live upon nothing but the remembrance of that look for many weary days that were yet to come . The doctor was in excellent spirits , and almost oppressively hospitable . We sat sociably chatting over our claret till past eight o'clock . Then my host turned to his desk to write a letter before the post want out ; and I strolled away to smoke a cigar in the garden . Second-floor back windows all open , atmosphere as sultry as ever , gardener 's pruning-ladder quite safe in the tool-shed , savage mastiff in his kennel crunching his bones for supper . Good .