six o'clock
Picotee arrived in town late on a cold February afternoon , bearing a small bag in her hand . She crossed Westminster Bridge on foot , just after dusk , and saw a luminous haze hanging over each well-lighted street as it withdrew into distance behind the nearer houses , showing its direction as a train of morning mist shows the course of a distant stream when the stream itself is hidden . The lights along the riverside towards Charing Cross sent an inverted palisade of gleaming swords down into the shaking water , and the pavement ticked to the touch of pedestrians ' feet , most of whom tripped along as if walking only to practise a favourite quick step , and held handkerchiefs to their mouths to strain off the river mist from their lungs . She inquired her way to Exonbury Crescent , and between five and six o'clock reached her sister 's door . Two or three minutes were passed in accumulating resolution sufficient to ring the bell , which when at last she did , was not performed in a way at all calculated to make the young man Joey hasten to the door . After the lapse of a certain time he did , however , find leisure to stroll and see what the caller might want , out of curiosity to know who there could be in London afraid to ring a bell twice . Joey 's delight exceeded even his surprise , the ruling maxim of his life being the more the merrier , under all circumstances .