one o'clock
Rita drew a long breath as she folded her letter . She was in a fine glow of mingled affection and patriotic fervour ; it had been a great relief to pour it all out in Margaret 's sympathetic ear , though that ear were a thousand miles away . Now she really must go to bed . It was one o'clock , her watch told her . It seemed wicked , profane , to sleep under such moonlight as this ; but still , the body must be preserved . `` But first , '' she said to herself , `` I must have a drop of water ; writing so long has made me thirsty . '' She took up the earthen water-jar , but found it empty .