eight o'clock in the morning
Her favorite statue was one of a woman that stood on a pedestal near the Rue de Rivoli . The arm was thrown over her head , and there was a smile on the marble face which was inscrutable . It fascinated the girl as she looked up to it , and seemed to be the morning greeting to her busy day 's work in the city . If no one was in sight , which was often the case at eight o'clock in the morning , the girl kissed the tips of her fingers , and tossed the salute airily up to the statue , and the woman of stone always smiled back at her the strange mystical smile which seemed to indicate that it knew much more of this world and its ways than did the little Parisienne who daily gazed up at her . Lurine was happy , as a matter of course , for was not Paris always beautiful ? Did not the sun shine brightly ? And was not the air always clear ?