Ten
minutes past three
The heat in the station is very great , the noise almost deafening ; huge engines are pouring out volumes of steam , the shrill whistle sounds , porters are hurrying to and fro . The quarter-past three train is a great favorite -- more people travel by that than by any other -- and the platform is crowded by ladies , children , tourists , commercial gentlemen . There are very few of the humbler class . Ten minutes past three . The passengers are taking their places . The goddess of discord and noise reigns supreme , when from one of the smaller doors there glides , with soft , almost noiseless step , the figure of a woman . She wore a long gray cloak that entirely shrouded her figure ; a black veil hid her face so completely that not one feature could be seen .