ten in the morning
Come in and rest a bit ! '' The pretty lace-maker was passing the office of the concièrge , the so-called Mother Citron . The young girl accepted the invitation and sat down , heaving a deep sigh . It was only ten in the morning but her red eyes and her face showed signs of having passed a bad night . `` You must n't work so hard ! '' exclaimed the concièrge . `` Oh , it is n't my work ; that rests me , it helps me to forget ... .