half after four
When he came back to Nahala I was there waiting for him . And solemnly he embraced me , perfunctorily kissed my lips , gravely examined my tongue , decried my looks and state of health , and sent me to bed with hot stove-lids and a dosage of castor oil . Like entering into the machinery of a clock and becoming one of the cogs or wheels , inevitably and remorselessly turning around and around , so I entered back into the grey life of Nahala . Out of bed was Husband George at half after four every morning , and out of the house and astride his horse at five . There was the eternal porridge , and the horrible cheap coffee , and the fresh beef and jerky . I cooked , and baked , and scrubbed . I ground around the crazy hand sewing machine and made my cheap _ holokus _ .