seven o'clock
And she stalked majestically from the room . The Tripos week ! Every third-year girl felt as if life and death trembled in the balance during those eventful days . They woke on the Monday morning with much the same feeling as that of a patient who expects to have an arm amputated at eleven , and is morally convinced that she will sink beneath the strain , and when at seven o'clock a second-year friend crept into the study , tray in hand , and administered sympathising cups of tea , the final touch was given to the illusion . Darsie quailed before the prospect of those three-hour papers . Experience had proved that she was not at her best in examinations ; imaginative people rarely are , since at the critical moment the brain is apt to wander off on dire excursions into the future , envisaging the horrors of failing , instead of buckling to work in order to ensure success . Historical French Grammar in especial loomed like a pall , and she entered the Mission Room at Saint Columba 's with the operation-like feeling developed to its acutest point .