4:30
Cecil Banborough stood at one of the front windows of a club which faced on Fifth Avenue , his hands in his pockets , and a cigarette in his mouth , idly watching the varied life of the great thoroughfare . He had returned to the city that morning after a two weeks ' absence in the South , and , having finished his lunch , was wondering how he could manage to put in the time till the 4:30 express left for Meadowbrook . 2 P.M. , he reflected ruefully , was an hour when New York had no use and no resources for men of leisure like himself . Yet even for a mere onlooker the panorama of the street was of unusual interest . The avenue was ablaze with bunting , which hurrying thousands pointed out to their companions , while every street-corner had its little group of citizens , discussing with feverish energy and gestures of ill-concealed disquietude the situation of which the gay flags were the outward and visible sign .