about three o'clock
I determined to speak to Oke the following day , for I trusted him to give me a quiet hearing , and I did not trust Mrs. Oke . That woman would slip through my fingers like a snake if I attempted to grasp her elusive character . I asked Oke whether he would take a walk with me the next afternoon , and he accepted to do so with a curious eagerness . We started about three o'clock . It was a stormy , chilly afternoon , with great balls of white clouds rolling rapidly in the cold blue sky , and occasional lurid gleams of sunlight , broad and yellow , which made the black ridge of the storm , gathered on the horizon , look blue-black like ink . We walked quickly across the sere and sodden grass of the park , and on to the highroad that led over the low hills , I do n't know why , in the direction of Cotes Common . Both of us were silent , for both of us had something to say , and did not know how to begin .