five minutes past seven
` Walk fast , ' says Perry , ` it 's two minutes to seven , and I got to be home by -- ' '' ` Oh , shut up , ' says I. ` I had an appointment as chief performer at an inquest at seven , and I 'm not kicking about not keeping it . ' `` I had to pass by Perry 's little house . His Mariana was standing at the gate . We got there at five minutes past seven . She had on a blue wrapper , and her hair was pulled back smooth like little girls do when they want to look grown-folksy . She did n't see us till we got close , for she was gazing up the other way . Then she backed around , and saw Perry , and a kind of a look scooted around over her face -- danged if I can describe it .