eleven o'clock
His name , of course , was offensive to Arnold Jacks , and probably to Mrs. John Jacks ; only the genial old man had disregarded the scandal shadowing the Otway name . On the morrow , it was made known that the deceased Member of Parliament would be buried in Yorkshire , in the village churchyard which was on his own estate . And Otway felt glad of this ; the sombre and crowded hideousness of a London cemetery was no place of rest for John Jacks . A fortnight later , at eleven o'clock on Sunday morning , Piers mounted with a quick stride the stairs leading to Miss Bonnicastle 's abode . The door of her workroom stood ajar ; his knock brought no response ; after hesitating a little , he pushed the door open and went in . Accustomed to the grotesques and vulgarities which generally met his eye upon these walls , he was startled to behold a life-size figure of great beauty , suggesting a study for a serious work of art rather than a design for a street poster . It was a woman , in classic drapery , standing upon the seashore , her head thrown back , her magnificent hair flowing unrestrained , and one of her bare arms raised in a gesture of exultation .