half past five
He thought of it now , his hands deep in his pockets , his chest hollowed , his sullen eyes surveying the hill opposite , up which a cable car crawled like a large wet beetle . He watched the car till it dipped over the summit and there was nothing to see but the two shining rails , and the glistening roofs and the shrouded distance . It was like his idea , inexpressibly dreary , a forlorn , monotonous , gray shutting out what once had been a bright , engaging prospect . He looked again at his watch -- not yet half past five -- at least an hour to pass before dinner . The green tables began to call , and he turned from the window to the dusk of the room , tempted and restless . He must do something or he would answer the call , and he searched his resources for a diversion at once enlivening and inexpensive . The search brought up on Pancha .