Nine o'clock at night
I met him in New York a year ago . His next eldest brother , the Honorable George , is over there now . I believe he is going to marry a cousin of mine -- a girl who will come into a pot of money when her governor dies . '' * * * * * Nine o'clock at night , and a room in Beak street , Regent street ; a back apartment looking into a dingy court , furnished with a sort of tawdry , depressing luxury , and lighted by a pair of candles . A richly dressed woman who had once been extremely handsome , and still retained more than a trace of her charms , half reclined on a couch ; a fluffy mass of coppery-red hair had escaped from under her hat , and shaded her large eyes ; shame and confusion , mingled with angry defiance , deepened the artificial blush on her cheeks . Victor Nevill stood in the middle of the floor , confronting her with a faint , mocking smile at his lips . He had not taken the trouble to remove his hat .