three o'clock
Jude was at that moment in a railway train that was drawing near to Alfredston , oddly swathed , pale as a monumental figure in alabaster , and much stared at by other passengers . An hour later his thin form , in the long great-coat and blanket he had come with , but without an umbrella , could have been seen walking along the five-mile road to Marygreen . On his face showed the determined purpose that alone sustained him , but to which has weakness afforded a sorry foundation . By the up-hill walk he was quite blown , but he pressed on ; and at half-past three o'clock stood by the familiar well at Marygreen . The rain was keeping everybody indoors ; Jude crossed the green to the church without observation , and found the building open . Here he stood , looking forth at the school , whence he could hear the usual sing-song tones of the little voices that had not learnt Creation 's groan . He waited till a small boy came from the school -- one evidently allowed out before hours for some reason or other .