nine o'clock
And thereafter , for a long time , the many irons rose and fell , the pace of the room in no wise diminished ; while the forewoman strode the aisles with a threatening eye for incipient breakdown and hysteria . Occasionally an ironer lost the stride for an instant , gasped or sighed , then caught it up again with weary determination . The long summer day waned , but not the heat , and under the raw flare of electric light the work went on . By nine o'clock the first women began to go home . The mountain of fancy starch had been demolished -- all save the few remnants , here and there , on the boards , where the ironers still labored . Saxon finished ahead of Mary , at whose board she paused on the way out . `` Saturday night an ' another week gone , '' Mary said mournfully , her young cheeks pallid and hollowed , her black eyes blue-shadowed and tired .