seven o'clock
The fountains threw up sprays of water in jets , golden-tinted from the sun-light , azure from the sky ... . At noon I left my lodgings in Tomtegaden , where I still lived and found fairly comfortable , and set out for town . I was in the merriest humour , and lazied about the whole afternoon through the most frequented streets and looked at the people . Even before seven o'clock I took a turn up St. Olav 's Place and took a furtive look up at the window of No. 2 . In an hour I would see her . I went about the whole time in a state of tremulous , delicious dread . What would happen ?