nine o'clock
His dreaming moments were few and this one had passed . He set his heel upon that tide of weakening memories , sipped his coffee and looked out upon the crowd . Three or four times he glanced at his watch impatiently . Precisely at nine o'clock , a man moved from somewhere in the throng behind and took the vacant chair by his side . `` If one could trouble monsieur for a match ! '' Hunterleys turned towards the newcomer as he handed his matchbox . He was a young man of medium height , with sandy complexion , a little freckled , and with a straggling fair moustache .