four o'clock
She deemed herself simply a trustee of that magnificent property , of which she had charge for her son 's benefit , and which she proposed to turn over to him in good condition on the day when , considering himself wealthy enough and weary of living among the _ Turs _ , he should come , as he had promised , and live with her beneath the shade of Saint-Romans . Imagine then her untiring , all-pervading watchfulness . In the twilight of early dawn , the farm servants heard her hoarse , husky voice : `` Olivier -- Peyrol -- Audibert -- Come ! It 's four o'clock . '' Then a dive into the huge kitchen , where the maids , heavy with sleep , were warming the soup over the bright , crackling peat fire . They gave her her little plate of red Marseille earthenware , filled with boiled chestnuts , the frugal breakfast of an earlier time which nothing could induce her to change . Off she went at once with long strides , the keys jingling on the great silver key-ring fastened to her belt , her plate in her hand , held in equilibrium by the distaff which she held under her arm as if ready for battle , for she spun all day long , and did not stop even to eat her chestnuts .