five
minutes to nine
It was a household . There was even brass andirons . On a table was an album , half-morocco , with oxidized-silver protections on the corners of the lids . A clock on the mantel ticked loudly , with a warning click at five minutes to nine . Ives looked at it curiously , remembering a time-piece in his grandmother 's home that gave such a warning . And then down the stairs and into the room came Mary Marsden . She was twenty-four , and I leave her to your imagination .