four o'clock
Well , God help us , it had to come ! They are no longer one flesh with us . '' * * * * * A town without women in the streets is like a meadow without flowers , a bay tree without leaves , like the air without the wings of birds in it and the sweet sounds they make there about their feathers and affairs . Now since four o'clock not a woman had been seen on the streets of Jordantown , if one excepted an occasional bandanna-headed negress . Not a fan had been purchased , not a paper of pins , nor a yard of lace . Trade languished . Nobody knew yet what was wrong , but every man on the square missed something .