six o'clock
` No , only wicked ! ' ` Never mind that . ' And he stooped and kissed her . Next morning Marchmill was called at six o'clock ; and in waking and yawning she heard him muttering to himself : ` What the deuce is this that 's been crackling under me so ? ' Imagining her asleep he searched round him and withdrew something . Through her half-opened eyes she perceived it to be Mr. Trewe . ` Well , I 'm damned ! '