ten o'clock
Gim me a butterfly buckle to make , or a monogram to saw out , an ' I would n't call the Pope my uncle . '' His eye lifted from his work and rested on a broken gold brooch , beautiful with plaited hair under a glass centre . `` An ' that fussy old wood-hen 'll be in , first thing to-morrow , askin ' for ` the memento of my poor dear ` usband , my child , the one with the ` air in it ' -- carrotty ` air . An ' those two bits of ` air-pins that want them silver bangles by ten o'clock , they 'll be here punctual . I 'm just fair drove silly with badgerin ' wimmen . I 'm goin ' ratty with worry . When the boss comes back from his spree , I 'll give ` im a bit o ' my mind .