About eight o'clock in the evening
Did you never hear of Dolly Dayrell ? ' Hubert confessed that he had not . ` Why , ' she said , ` I thought every one had . ' About eight o'clock in the evening , the table near the stairs was generally occupied by flower-girls , dressed in dingy clothes , and brightly feathered hats . They placed their empty baskets on the floor , and shouted at their companions -- men who sold newspapers , boot-laces , and cheap toys . About nine the boys came in , the boys who used to push the old prize-fighter about , and Hubert soon began to perceive how representative they were of all vices -- gambling , theft , idleness , and cruelty were visible in their faces . They were led by a Jew boy who sold penny jewellery at the corner of Oxford Street , and they generally made for the tables at the end of the room , for there , unless custom was slack indeed , they could defeat the vigilance of the serving-maid and play at nap at their ease .