eight o'clock
Bakers ' shops were piled high with WEIHNACHTSSTOLLEN , which were a special mark of the festival : cakes shaped like torpedoes , whose sugared , almonded coats brisked brown and tempting . But the spicy scent of the firs was the motive that recurred most persistently : it clung even to the stairways of the houses . Maurice had assisted Madeleine with her circumstantial shopping ; and , at dusk on Christmas Eve , he helped her to carry her parcels to the house of some German friends . He himself was invited to Miss Jensen 's , where a party of English and Americans would celebrate the evening in their own fashion ; but not till eight o'clock . When he had picked out at a confectioner 's , a TORTE for the Fursts , he did not know how to kill time . He was in an unsettled mood , and the atmosphere of excitement , which had penetrated the familiar details of life , jarred on him . It seemed absurdly childish , the way in which even the grown-up part of the population surrendered itself to the sentimental pleasures of the season .