six o'clock
`` I hate slackers , '' I said , and to prove it I set to work on some Homer for Edwardes . Murray got his books and we slaved together for nearly two hours , when a most timid knock sounded on my door , and a man came in who seemed to be most fearfully nervous . He was carrying a gown and a cap in his hand , and he looked at Murray , who was not at all an alarming sight , as if he had encountered a wild man from one of those regions where wild men are bred . I had never had much practice at putting any one at their ease , for most people hit me on the back and call me `` old fellow '' far too soon ; but I tried very hard to calm my visitor , and though it was six o'clock I asked him to have tea and every conceivable other thing I could think of , all of which he refused . He told me his name was Owen , but apart from that I knew nothing , and the more he fidgeted with the tassel of his cap the more I wondered why he had come . Murray , however , guessed that he was in the way and hurried off as soon as he could . Then Owen made two or three unsuccessful efforts to begin , until I felt that I must offer him something more , only I had nothing left to offer .