a quarter past nine
He felt suddenly that Polchester was a small out-of-the - way place of no account ; was there any one in the world who cared whether Polchester celebrated the Jubilee or not ? Nobody ... . He got up and walked across to the window , pulling the curtains aside and looking out at the deep purple dusk that stained the air like wine . The clock behind him struck a quarter past nine . Two tiny stars , like inquisitive mocking eyes , winked at him above the high Western tower . Moved by an impulse that was too immediate and peremptory to be investigated , he went into the hall , found his hat and stick , opened softly the door as though he were afraid that some one would try to stop him , and was soon on the grass in front of the Cathedral , staring about him as though he had awakened from a bewildering dream . He went across to the little side-door , found his key , and entered the Cathedral , leaving the gargoyle to grin after him , growing more alive , and more malicious too , with every fading moment of the light .