six o'clock
... Rose was to have a holiday the next day . We arranged that she should come with the trap from the farm , the first thing in the morning , to fetch me . We start at six o'clock . The harness-bells tinkle gaily to the heavy trot of the big horse ; and we laugh as we are jolted violently one against the other . We drive through the villages , those happy Normandy villages where everything seems eloquent of the richness of the soil . They are still asleep , the white curtains are drawn and the geraniums on the window-ledges alone are awake in all their glowing bloom .