eight o'clock
Nance hesitated , then straightening the prim little gray bonnet that would assume a jaunty tilt , she followed the tall figure and the short one into the halo of light that circled the open door . The evening that followed was one of those rare times , insignificant in itself , every detail of which was to stand out in after life , charged with significance . For Nance , the warmth and glow of the homely little house , with its flowered carpets and gay curtains , the beaming face of old Mrs. Purdy in its frame of silver curls , the laughter of the happy child , and above all the strong , tender presence of Dan , were things never to be forgotten . At eight o'clock she rose reluctantly , saying that she had to go by the Snawdors ' before she reported at the hospital at nine o'clock . `` Do you mind if I go that far with you ? '' asked Dan , wistfully . On their long walk across the city they said little .