half past two
`` Trashy novels . Why do n't you girls ever read anything but novels ? '' and so on . The little china clock with the blue mandarin on the mantelpiece struck half past two . He must be going . He threw a last look round the room as though he were desperately committing everything to memory -- the shabby , comfortable chairs , the Landseer `` Dignity and Impudence , '' the warm , blue carpet , the round silver biscuit-tin on the sideboard . `` Well , I must be getting along . ''