a few minutes before one o'clock
... Well , well ; sleep was a curious thing ; and so was imagination ... ... At any rate she had written to Mr. Cathcart . _ Chapter XI _ The `` Cock Inn '' is situated in Fleet Street , not twenty yards from Mitre Court and scarcely fifty from the passage that leads down to the court where Mr. James Morton still has his chambers . It was a convenient place , therefore , for Laurie to lunch in , and he generally made his appearance there a few minutes before one o'clock to partake of a small rump steak and a pewter mug of beer . Sometimes he came alone , sometimes in company ; and by a carefully thought out system of tips he usually managed to have reserved for him at least until one o'clock a particular seat in a particular partition in that row of stable-like shelters that run the length of the room opposite the door on the first floor . On the twenty-third of February , however -- it was a Friday , by the way , and boiled plaice would have to be eaten instead of rump steak -- he was a little annoyed to find his seat already occupied by a small , brisk-looking man with a grey beard and spectacles , who , with a newspaper propped in front of him , was also engaged in the consumption of boiled plaice . The little man looked up at him sharply , like a bird disturbed in a meal , and then down again upon the paper .