twelve o'clock
On Saturdays Pustovalov and she used to go to the evening service ; on holidays to early mass , and they walked side by side with softened faces as they came home from church . There was a pleasant fragrance about them both , and her silk dress rustled agreeably . At home they drank tea , with fancy bread and jams of various kinds , and afterwards they ate pie . Every day at twelve o'clock there was a savoury smell of beet-root soup and of mutton or duck in their yard , and on fast-days of fish , and no one could pass the gate without feeling hungry . In the office the samovar was always boiling , and customers were regaled with tea and cracknels . Once a week the couple went to the baths and returned side by side , both red in the face . `` Yes , we have nothing to complain of , thank God , '' Olenka used to say to her acquaintances .