midnight
His musings merged into vacuity , into a dull gray mist of hopelessness comparable only to the dismal skies then lowering over London-town . Brentwick was good , but Brentwick was mistaken . There was really nothing for Kirkwood to do but to go ahead . But one steamer-trunk remained to be packed ; the boat-train would leave before midnight , the steamer with the morning tide ; by the morrow 's noon he would be upon the high seas , within ten days in New York and among friends ; and then ... The problem of that afterwards perplexed Kirkwood more than he cared to own . Brentwick had opened his eyes to the fact that he would be practically useless in San Francisco ; he could not harbor the thought of going back , only to become a charge upon Vanderlip . No ; he was resolved that thenceforward he must rely upon himself , carve out his own destiny . But -- would the art that he had cultivated with such assiduity , yield him a livelihood if sincerely practised with that end in view ?