half past three
At two , in another man 's operation , he saw the richest merchant in the city go wafted out into eternity on the fumes of ether taken for the lancing of a stye . At three o'clock , passing the open door of one of the public waiting-rooms , an Italian peasant woman rushed out and spat in his face because her tubercular daughter had just died at the sanitarium where the Senior Surgeon 's money had sent her . Only in this one wild , defiling moment did the lust for alcohol surge up in him again , surge clamorously , brutally , absolutely mercilessly , as though in all the known cleansants of the world only interminable raw whisky was hot enough to cauterize a polluted consciousness . At half past three , as soon as he could change his clothes again , he re-broke and re-set an acrobat 's priceless leg . At five o'clock , more to rest himself than anything else , he went up to the autopsy amphitheater to look over an exhibit of enlarged hearts , whose troubles were permanently over . At six o'clock just as he was leaving the great building with all its harrowing sights , sounds , and smells , a peremptory telephone call from one of the younger surgeons of the city summoned him back into the stuffy office again . `` Dr. Faber ? ''