six o'clock
`` What sort of weather this morning ? '' demanded M. Godefroy curtly , as he buttoned his undervest of gray swandown upon a stomach that was already a little too prominent . `` Very cold , sir , '' replied Charles meekly . `` At six o'clock the thermometer marked seven degrees above zero . But , as you will see , sir , the sky is quite clear , and I think we are going to have a fine morning . '' In stropping his razor , M. Godefroy approached the window , drew aside one of the hangings , looked on the boulevard , which was bathed in brightness , and made a slight grimace which bore some resemblance to a smile . It is all very well to be perfectly stiff and correct , and to know that it is bad taste to show feeling of any kind in the presence of domestics , but the appearance of the roguish sun in the middle of December sends such a glow of warmth to the heart that it is impossible to disguise the fact .