three
o’clock
But that was all the difference . I passed over to the press-room , and went through just such a scene as I have already described . The nervous tension was stronger than it had been two years before , and I felt the heat more acutely . At three o'clock I cried , `` Print off , '' and turned to go , when there crept to my chair what was left of a man . He was bent into a circle , his head was sunk between his shoulders , and he moved his feet one over the other like a bear . I could hardly see whether he walked or crawled -- this rag-wrapped , whining cripple who addressed me by name , crying that he was come back . `` Can you give me a drink ? ''