the hour of eight
The tired brain wore itself out at last in eager speculations , and she fell into a fitful stupor . The roar of the street-cars waked her at daylight , and further sleep was out of the question . She rose , dressed quickly and got her breakfast in a quiver of nervous excitement over the adventure of the coming automobile . As the hour of eight drew nearer , her doubts of the propriety of going became more acute . `` What on earth has come over me in the past twenty-four hours ? '' she asked of herself . `` I 've known this man but a day .