one o'clock
In spite of his dislike , even hatred of children , he had been coming slowly , during the last two years , to an affection for , and interest in , his nephew that was something quite new to his cynical , egoistic nature . It had leapt into activity at Christmas time , then had died again . Now as , flung first into his sister 's bony arms , then on to the terrified spectacles of his niece Mary , he tried to recover himself , he was caught and held by that picture of his small nephew , seated , solid and square , in his blue sailor suit , his bare knees swinging , his hand clutching his precious box with an energy that defied Fate itself to take it from him , his mouth set , his eyes staring , radiant with joy , in front of him . On arrival at the station it was found that the one o'clock to Liskane was `` just about due , '' so that there was no time to be lost . They had to rush along under the great iron dome , passing by the main line , disregarding the tempestuous express from Truxe that drew up , as it were disdainfully , just as they passed , and finding the modest side line to Liskane and St. Lowe . Here there was every kind of excitement for Jeremy . Anyone who has any kind of passion for observation must have discovered long ago that a side line has ever so much more charm and appeal about it than a main line .