One o'clock
Mr. Clinch usually had no fancies , had no eye for quaintness ; besides , this was not a quaint nor romantic district , only an entrepot for silks and velvets , and Mr. Clinch was here , not as a tourist , but as a purchaser . The guidebooks had ignored Sammtstadt , and he was too good an American to waste time in looking up uncatalogued curiosities . Besides , he had been here once before , -- an entire day ! One o'clock . Still a full hour and a half before his friend would return to business . What should he do ? The Verein where he had once been entertained was deserted even by its waiters ; the garden , with its ostentatious out-of-door tables , looked bleak and bare .