about five o'clock
It was dark that afternoon . I had not stirred from my hole since coming in from the probe -- had neither eaten nor drunk , and was in full possession of the uninterrupted solitude coveted by busy men . Once I thought that it would have been pleasant if some one had known and cared for me well enough to run up the stairs , put his head into the room , and talk to me about his affairs . To the sound of gustily blowing wind and rain beating on the pane , the afternoon hours dragged slowly by , and the world went on outside and around me until about five o'clock . Then there came a knock at my door , an occurrence so unprecedented that I sat and stared at the said door instead of speaking , as if Edgar Poe 's raven had put in a sudden appearance and begun to croak its `` never-more '' at me . The door was opened . A dreadful , dirty-looking young woman , a servant of the house , stood in the door-way .