about four o'clock
As a business man , he had been taught to look for interested motives lying at the back of every action , bad or good , -- and as his health improved , and calm reason again asserted its sway , he found it difficult and well-nigh impossible to realise or to believe that this woman , to whom he was a perfect stranger , no more than a vagrant on the road , could have given him so much of her time , attention , and care , unless she had dimly supposed him to be something other than he had represented himself . Unable yet to leave his bed , he lay , to all appearances , quietly contented , acknowledging her gentle ministrations with equally gentle words of thanks , while all the time he was mentally tormenting himself with doubts and fears . He knew that during his illness he had been delirious , -- surely in that delirium he might have raved and talked of many things that would have yielded the entire secret of his identity . This thought made him restless , -- and one afternoon when Mary came in with the deliciously prepared cup of tea which she always gave him about four o'clock , he turned his eyes upon her with a sudden keen look which rather startled her by its piercing brightness suggesting , as it did , some return of fever . `` Tell me , '' -- he said -- `` Have I been ill long ? More than a week ? '' She smiled .