one o’clock
she gasped , when her father had finished the long tale . `` I hate him ; I almost wish that you had killed him , '' and she clenched her little hands and shook them in the air . `` That is not very Christian of you , Miss Clifford , '' said a voice behind her . `` But it is past one o'clock , and as I am still alive I have come to tell you that it is time for luncheon . '' Benita wheeled round upon the stone on which she sat , and there , standing amidst the bushes a little way from the foot of the wall , was Jacob Meyer . Their eyes met ; hers were full of defiance , and his of conscious power . `` I do not want any luncheon , Mr. Meyer , '' she said .