twelve o'clock
She who had held her head so high . Abruptly she reined in the horse again . No , she would not hurry . Exercising all her self-control , she went on her way with deliberate slowness , so that it was past twelve o'clock when she dismounted under the carriage porch . Her fingers clutched tightly about her crop , she mounted to her sitting-room and entered , closing the door behind her . She went directly to the table , and then , catching her breath , with a quick , apprehensive sinking of the heart , stopped short . The little heart-shaped match box was gone , and on the couch in the corner of the room Page , her book fallen to the floor beside her , lay curled up and asleep .