twenty
minutes past ten
She could not have made a mistake . The message she had received was `` W. S. T. , '' which meant `` Wednesday same time . '' Some accident must have interfered . At twenty minutes past ten she had lost all hope . She must go home , and wait for a possible communication on the morrow . Swinging her skirts , clenching her fists , and talking silently at a great rate , she walked in the direction of Chancery Lane . At a corner someone going in the opposite direction caught sight of her and stopped .