eight o’clock
Suddenly Catherine , sunk in painful reverie , noticed that the mutterings from the bed had ceased for some little time . She turned her chair , and was startled to find those weird eyes fixed with recognition on herself . There was a curious , malign intensity , a curious triumph in them . ` It must be -- eight o'clock ' -- said the gasping voice -- ` _ eight o'clock _ ; ' and the tone became a whisper , as though the idea thus half involuntarily revealed had been drawn jealously back into the strongholds of consciousness . ` Mary , ' said Catherine , falling on her knees beside the bed , and taking one of the restless hands forcibly into her own -- ` ca n't you put this thought away from you ? We are not the playthings of evil spirits -- we are the children of God ! We are in His hands .