ten
o'clock
The great street was very long and I thought it would never end . But I think I must have been still fresh and happy while we passed through the foreign quarter of Soho , for I remember that , when two young Italian waiters , standing at the door of their café , asked each other in their own language which of us -LRB- baby or I -RRB- was `` the bambino , '' I turned to them and smiled . Before I came to Chancery Lane , however , baby began to cry for her food , and I was glad to slip down a narrow alley into Lincoln 's Inn Fields and sit on a seat in the garden while I gave her the bottle . It was then ten o'clock , the sun was high and the day was becoming hot . The languid stillness of the garden after the noise and stir of the streets tempted me to stay longer than I had intended , and when I resumed my journey I thought the rest must have done me good , but before I reached the Holborn Viaduct fatigue was beginning to gain on me . I saw that I must be approaching some great hospital , for hospital nurses were now passing me constantly , and one of them , who was going my way , stepped up and asked me to allow her to carry baby . She looked so sweet and motherly that I let her do so , and as we walked along we talked .