eight o'clock
He wondered who it was had planted the garden , during his long absence . Anyhow , there it was , planted and fruited and waning into autumn . The blind was not drawn . It was eight o'clock . The children were going to bed . Aaron waited in his shed , his bowels stirred with violent but only half-admitted emotions . There was his wife , slim and graceful , holding a little mug to the baby 's mouth .