eight o'clock
Unmistakably , up from the paper rose the strong , vivid scent -- of a briar-wood pipe . `` Well I 'll be hanged , '' growled Stanton , `` if I 'm going to be strung by any boy ! '' Out of all proportion the incident irritated him . But when , the next evening , a perfectly tremendous bunch of yellow jonquils arrived with a penciled line suggesting , `` If you 'll put these solid gold posies in your window to-morrow morning at eight o'clock , so I 'll surely know just which window is yours , I 'll look up -- when I go past , '' Stanton most peremptorily ordered the janitor to display the bouquet as ornately as possible along the narrow window-sill of the biggest window that faced the street . Then all through the night he lay dozing and waking intermittently , with a lovely , scared feeling in the pit of his stomach that something really rather exciting was about to happen . By surely half-past seven he rose laboriously from his bed , huddled himself into his black-sheep wrapper and settled himself down as warmly as could be expected , close to the draughty edge of the window . `` Little and lame and red-haired and brown-eyed , '' he kept repeating to himself .