one o'clock
`` And I can only hope , '' were Simon 's last words , `` that my daughter will never turn up to worry you , and that , even if you forget her , you 'll sometimes think of us folk here at Dover . And , be sure , if you ever find yourself in the town again , there 's a hearty welcome waiting for you at my house . '' In London , Morgan took a large , airy garret in Southwark , to get from which to his work he had only to cross the bridge , and fitted it with a narrow folding-bed and the few things he needed . He made his own breakfast , had his dinner sent into the works at one o'clock from a neighboring coffee-shop , had tea made for him by one of the girl folders , and supped at home on bread and cheese . In this way he managed to live and to dress neatly -- patronising a very different sort of tailor from his old London one -- on a pound a week . Every penny of the rest he put by rigorously . About this time he learnt that his father could not come to town yet , as the winter was a severe one , and he had had a touch of rheumatism .