the hour of three in
the afternoon
`` I pray every night , '' Dahlia answered . Her look of meek despair was hauntingly sad with Anthony on his way home . He tracked her sorrowfulness to the want of money ; and another of his terrific vague struggles with the money-demon set in . Sir William Blancove did business at his Bank till the hour of three in the afternoon , when his carriage conveyed him to a mews near the park of Fashion , where he mounted horse and obeyed the bidding of his doctor for a space , by cantering in a pleasant , portly , cock-horsey style , up and down the Row . It was the day of the great race on Epsom Downs , and elderly gentlemen pricked by the doctors were in the ascendant in all London congregations on horseback . Like Achilles -LRB- if the bilious Shade will permit the impudent comparison -RRB- , they dragged their enemy , Gout , at their horses ' heels for a term , and vengeance being accomplished went to their dinners and revived him . Sir William was disturbed by his son 's absence from England .