about three o'clock
As his visitor walked away , Fenwick stood motionless , listening to the retreating step , which echoed in the silence of the vast , empty hotel , once the house of Madame de Pompadour . He looked at his watch . Past midnight . By about three o'clock , in the midst of a wild autumnal storm , he had finished his letter to Madame de Pastourelles ; and he fell asleep at his table , worn out , his head on his arms . Before ten on the following morning Fenwick had seen Bella Morrison . A woman appeared -- the caricature of something he had once known , the high cheek-bones of his early picture touched with rouge , little curls of black hair plastered on her temples , with a mincing gait , and a manner now giggling and now rude . She was extremely sorry if she had put him out -- really particularly sorry !