four o'clock
I had good from that walk of mine . For you see , when a man is alone , above all , I think , when he is alone in the truce of night , one day 's fight done and the new morning 's battle not yet joined , he can pause and stand and think . He can be still ; then his worst and his best steal out , like mice from their holes -LRB- the cat of convention is asleep -RRB- , and play their gambols and antics before his eyes : he knows them and himself , and reaches forth to know the world and his work in it , his life and the end of it , the difference , if any , that he has made by spending so much pains on living . It was four o'clock when a sleepy night-porter let me in . My servants had orders never to wait beyond two , and in my rooms all was dark and quiet . But when I lit a candle from the little lamp by the door , I saw somebody lying on the sofa in my dressing-room , a woman 's figure stretched in the luxury of quiet sleep . Victoria this must be and none else .