about nine o’clock
It was his death warrant -- a death like that of an old and solitary brute , a death without a kiss , without the touch of a friendly hand -- that he was signing . Never again would he embrace her . Then doubts assailed him ; was he doing right in leaving her amid such evil surroundings , where he felt that she was in continual contact with every species of wickedness ? The postman brought the letters and newspapers to La Souleiade every morning at about nine o'clock ; and Pascal , when he wrote to Clotilde , was accustomed to watch for him , to give him his letter , so as to be certain that his correspondence was not intercepted . But on this morning , when he went downstairs to give him the letter he had just written , he was surprised to receive one from him from Clotilde , although it was not the usual day for her letters . He allowed his own to go , however . Then he went upstairs , resumed his seat at his table , and tore open the envelope .