half past five
Well , it was only what he had expected all along . A woman like Persis could not be asked to overlook everything . `` Good night , Persis , '' he said huskily , and he thought it more than his deserts when she answered him with her usual kindness , `` Good night , Thomas . '' During the spring and summer Persis rose at half past five , and though she slept little the night following Thomas Hardin 's disclosures , she refused to concede to her feeling of weariness so much as an extra half-hour . Her fitful slumbers had been haunted by dreams of apples , apples in barrels , apples in baskets , apples dropping from full boughs and pelting her like hail-stones , for all her dodging . There were feverishly red apples , gnarly green apples and the golden sweets , the favorites of her childhood , all of them turning into goblins as she approached , and leering up at her out of impish eyes which nevertheless bore a startling resemblance to those eyes in whose depths she had once seen only the reflection of her own loyalty . It was small wonder that Persis woke unrefreshed .