half past eight
She did not recall my voice or my name , and only when I said that I had been Jerry Benham 's tutor , did she remember . It was a personal matter , I explained , having to do with Mr. Benham , and at that she consented to see me . I left the telephone booth at the hotel perspiring freely , aware for the first time of the awkwardness and delicacy of my undertaking . But I dined and changed into my blue serge suit , one that I had bought upon the occasion of my last visit to town , and at half past eight presented myself in the Habberton drawing-room . In the moments before she appeared , I sat ill at ease , my eyes taking in every detail of the well-ordered room , the cool gray walls , the family portraits , the old-fashioned ornaments upon table and mantel , aware , in spite of myself , that I was warm at the collar , impatient for the interview to begin , yet fearful for it . I was watching the folding doors at the end of the room when she startled me by appearing silently almost at my elbow . The lights were dim , but I could see that her face wore no smile of greeting and as I rose she did not offer me her hand .