midnight
The young man 's heart beat faster , and more than once he turned hot and cold by turns as he heard things uttered by the bearded lips of this imposing man , in a rich voice and in lucid phrases , which he had often divined or vaguely felt , but for which , while learning , observing , and working , he had never sought expression in words . And how kindly the great master took up his timid observations , how convincingly he answered them . Such a man as this he had never met , never had he bowed with such full consent before the superiority and sovereign power of another mind . The second hour after midnight had begun , when Hadrian , standing before the rough-cast clay bust , asked Pollux : `` What is this to be ? '' `` A portrait of a girl . '' `` Probably of the complaisant model who ventures into Lochias at night ? '' `` No ; a lady of rank will sit to me . ''