five in the morning
`` What do you mean ? '' snapped Miss Pinnegar . None the less , Mr. May was dependable in matters of business . He was up at half-past five in the morning , and by seven was well on his way . He sailed like a stiff little ship before a steady breeze , hither and thither , out of Woodhouse and back again , and across from side to side . Sharp and snappy , he was , on the spot . He trussed himself up , when he was angry or displeased , and sharp , snip-snap came his words , rather like scissors .