and then the doors closed , and the train moved away , and richard found himself staring at a sign which , no matter how many times he blinked-nor even if he looked away from it and looked back suddenly to take it by surprise-still obstinately persisted in saying : british museum eight it was early evening , and the cloudless sky was transmuting from royal blue to a deep violet , with a smudge of fire orange and lime green over paddington , four miles to the west , where , from old bailey 's perspective anyway , the sun had recently set .