eight o'clock
She lighted the lights and sat in a stiff-backed rocking-chair , the hard white radiance beating on her from a cluster of electric bulbs close against the ceiling as if they had been shot up there by an explosion . It was half-past six , but she did not feel at all hungry . She felt -- with a smothered exclamation she jumped up , ran to the telephone and ordered her dinner . At eight o'clock Mayer 's voice on the phone brought back a slight , faint echo of the thrill . What he said was matter-of-fact and colorless -- he had warned her that it would be -- just if she was comfortable and everything Was all right . She tried to answer it with debonair brevity ; show the right spirit , bold and undismayed , of the dauntless woman to the companion of her daring . Then came the slow undrawing of the night , the noises of the house dying down , car bells and auto horns less frequent in the streets below .