two o'clock
I 'd throw a flatiron at his head and put some castor-oil in his soup ! '' Joe laughed a little . He looked at his watch , and then at Myra . `` Myra , '' he said , gently , `` it 's two o'clock -- too late to go home . You must sleep with mother . '' Myra spoke softly . `` No -- I can get home all right . ''