The day was half gone, and it was a far fetch to Stepney.

And besides, it was Sunday, and why should even a starving man look for work on Sunday?
Furthermore, it was my judgment that I had done a hard night's work walking the streets, and a hard day's work getting my breakfast; so I disconnected myself from my working hypothesis of a starving young man in search of employment, hailed a bus, and climbed aboard.
After a shave and a bath, with my clothes all off, I got in between clean white sheets and went to sleep.

It was six in the evening when I closed my eyes.

When they opened again, the clocks were striking nine next morning.

I had slept fifteen straight hours.