seven o'clock
Something had to be done , and she had done something . Not much longer could she have borne the suspense . All that day she had lived forward towards supper-time , when Louis Fores would appear . Over and over again she had lived right through the moment of opening the front door for him at a little before seven o'clock . The moments between seven o'clock and a quarter past had been a crescendo of torment , intolerable at last . His lateness was inexplicable , and he was so close to that not to look for him would have been ridiculous . She was apprehensive , and yet she was obscurely happy in her fears .