eight o’clock
Night came on at about six o'clock that rainy March day . The assistants brought lamps ; and some mistrustful artists , who , gloomy and silent , were watching the counting askance , drew nearer . Others began to play jokes , imitated the cries of animals , or attempted a _ tyrolienne _ . But it was only at eight o'clock , when a collation of cold meat and wine was served , that the gaiety reached its climax . The bottles were hastily emptied , the men stuffed themselves with whatever they were lucky enough to get hold of , and there was a free-and-easy kind of Kermesse in that huge hall which the logs in the fireplace lit up with a forge-like glow . Then they all smoked , and the smoke set a kind of mist around the yellow light from the lamps , whilst on the floor trailed all the spoilt voting-papers thrown away during the polling ; indeed , quite a layer of dirty paper , together with corks , breadcrumbs , and a few broken plates . The heels of those seated at the table disappeared amidst this litter .