six o'clock
Hiram had strategically chosen the slack business hour of the morning . He had eaten breakfast in a cheaper restaurant , two blocks down the street . He had not seen Tweet . He had been walking about the streets since six o'clock . The keys kept clicking . Hiram cleared his throat several times , and at last , as before , tapped on the show case with a coin . The clicking stopped , a skirt swished , and the gates of heaven opened , it seemed to Hiram .