five o'clock
Egremont presently looked back from the carriage window . The house was already out of view , and the summits of the circling hills were wreathed with cloud . A working man , one Gilbert Grail , was spending an hour of his Saturday afternoon in Westminster Abbey . At five o'clock the sky still pulsed with heat ; black shadows were sharp edged upon the yellow pavement . Between the bridges of Westminster and Lambeth the river was a colourless gleam ; but in the Sanctuary evening had fallen . Above the cool twilight of the aisles floated a golden mist ; and the echo of a footfall hushed itself among the tombs . He was a man past youth , but of less than middle age , with meagre limbs and shoulders , a little bent .