eight o'clock
It was such a very modest affair that one would hardly call it that -- least of all Max Tack , who had spent seventy-five dollars the night before in entertaining an important prospective buyer . On her way to her room that sultry June night Sophy had encountered the persistent Tack . Ella Morrissey , up in her room , was fathoms deep in work . It was barely eight o'clock and there was a wonderful opal sky -- a June twilight sky , of which Paris makes a specialty -- all grey and rose and mauve and faint orange . `` Somebody 's looking mighty sweet to-night in her new Paris duds ! '' Max Tack 's method of approach never varied in its simplicity . `` They 're not Paris -- they 're Chicago . ''