A quarter past six
The long table had been roughly cleared after supper by the summary process of bundling all the plates up in the cloth . On it had been replaced , for the final debate , drawings and models of the guns considered absolute after the novel Clemenceau Cannon . On a pedestal-pillar stood a large clock , representing , with figures at the base , the forge of Vulcan ; his Cyclops had hammered off six strokes a little preceding the servant 's entrance . `` A quarter past six , '' she said , yawning . `` It will soon be light . '' She drew the curtains and pulled the cord which caused the shade to roll itself up in each of the three tall windows , before returning to the table where she had left her now useless lamp . With a half-terrified look , she began to arrange the pretty little cannon , exquisitely modeled in nickel and bronze , and miniature shot , shell , chain-shot , etc. , which she handled with a curiosity rather instinctive than studied .