eight o'clock
Her figure , though full , was erect , firm , neat . Around her throat she wore an inch-wide band of black velvet that becomingly hid the chords and sagging chin muscles . Yet now , if ever in her life , Hannah Winter was a slave . Every morning at eight o'clock Marcia telephoned her mother . The hotel calls cost ten cents , but Marcia 's was an unlimited phone . The conversation would start with a formula . `` Hello -- Mama ?