eight o'clock
She had dreamed of a complete conquest of caste , and the remaking of a man . She had dreamed of the day when she could pick up from the discarded of humanity this splendid , misused bit of rubbish and in triumph claim it as her own , to revive , to rebuild , to make over through the sure and simple processes of love ! This had been Lutie Tresslyn 's notion of revenge ! She saw George at eight o'clock that night . As she stood in the shelter of the small canvas awning protecting the entrance to the building in which she lived , waiting for the taxi to pull up , her eyes searched the swirling shadows up and down the street . She never failed to look for the distant and usually indistinct figure of _ her man _ . It had become a habit with her .