eight o'clock
Long after midnight he entered a narrow byway , which the pale moon showed to be decent , though not inviting . He admitted himself with a latchkey to a little house which smelt of glue , lit a candle-end which he found in his pocket , and ascended two flights of stairs to a back bedroom , its size eight feet by seven and a half . A few minutes more , and he lay sound asleep . Waking at eight o'clock -- he knew the time by a bell that clanged in the neighbourhood -- Mr. Tymperley clad himself with nervous haste . On opening his door , he found lying outside a tray , with the materials of a breakfast reduced to its lowest terms : half a pint of milk , bread , butter . At nine o'clock he went downstairs , tapped civilly at the door of the front parlour , and by an untuned voice was bidden enter . The room was occupied by an oldish man and a girl , addressing themselves to the day 's work of plain bookbinding .