midnight
I was like a man in a solitary desert who has suddenly heard a voice ... . That , too , passed . As I came over Clayton Crest I recalled that I missed the multitude that now night after night walked out to stare at the comet , and the little preacher in the waste beyond the hoardings , who warned sinners to repent before the Judgment , was not in his usual place . It was long past midnight , and every one had gone home . But I did not think of this at first , and the solitude perplexed me and left a memory behind . The gas-lamps were all extinguished because of the brightness of the comet , and that too was unfamiliar . The little newsagent in the still High Street had shut up and gone to bed , but one belated board had been put out late and forgotten , and it still bore its placard .