twelve o'clock
Her eyes were wild . One of her hands was nervously caressing the rough sleeve of the coat as it hung from her shoulder . One -- two -- three -- Billy gave a sharp cry and ran into the hall . Yes , it was twelve o'clock . And now , always , all the rest of the dreary , useless hours that that clock would tick away through an endless existence , she would have to live -- without Bertram . If only she could see him once more ! But she could not .