twelve
o’clock
I 've earned my end . ' He looked as though he was waiting for the clock to go on striking , half raising himself up in bed , with Miss Faith 's arm under his head . He whispered to her then -- he could n't speak by this time . ` It 's twelve o'clock , ' he said . Then there came some words I 've heard the priest say at Mass , ` Vanitas , Vanitatum , ' -- that was what he said . And her he 'd lied to , there with him , laying his head down on the pillow , as if he was her child going to sleep . So , too , she had him buried by her father , in the Quaker burying-ground -- ay , she is a saint on earth , I warrant . ''