nine o'clock
Now she was a summer girl , and a radiant vision , twice as pretty as before , especially in this Oriental frame ; still I was waiting to see myself fall in love with her , much in the same way that Biddy was waiting . And there was that Oriental frame ! It belonged to my past , and perhaps Monny Gilder did n't belong even to my future , so it was excusable if I thought of it more than of her . It was hardly nine o'clock , but already the wonderful coloured cinema show of Cairo daily life had begun to flash and flicker past the terrace of Shepheard 's , where East and West meet and mingle more sensationally than anywhere in Egypt . Nobody save ourselves had dared suggest breakfast ; but travellers were pouring into the hotel , and pouring out . Pretty women and plain women were sitting at the little wicker tables to read letters , or discuss plans for the day with each other or their dragomans . Officers in khaki came and talked to them about golf and gymkhanas .