about nine o'clock in the morning
I came upon a public square presently and there facing me was a great , big café , white and new and dazzling , with large plate-glass windows and rows of tables on a covered verandah outside . It was undoubtedly a '' _ kolossal _ '' establishment after the best Berlin style . So that there might be no mistake about the name it was placarded all over the front of the place in gilt letters three feet high on glass panels -- Café Regina . It was about nine o'clock in the morning and at that early hour I had the place to myself . I felt very small , sitting at a tiny table , with tables on every side of me , stretching away as it were into the _ Ewigkeit _ , in a vast white room with mural paintings of the crassest school of impressionism . I ordered a good , substantial breakfast and whiled away the time while it was coming by glancing at the morning paper which the waiter brought me . My eyes ran down the columns without my heeding what I read , for my thoughts were busy with Francis .