ten o'clock
The lamps came in and filled the room with a golden glow , as she sat in a majestic assurance that gave her an aspect of a sort of regal state . Her hair , ill-arranged , disordered in lying down throughout the day in her reclining chair , showed in its redundance the splendor of its tint and quality ; her face , lately so wan and lean and ghastly , was roseate , and the lines had strangely filled out in soft curves to their wonted contour ; her hands lay supple and white and quiet in her lap , with not a tense ligament , not a throbbing fibre -- delicate , beautiful hands -- it seemed odd to her companions to think how they had seen her wring them in woe and clench them in despair . Her black gown with its heavy folds of crape had an element of incongruity with that still , assured , resolved presence , expressing so cheerful a poise , so confident a control of circumstance . She did not expend herself in protest when at ten o'clock they besought her to go to bed , to be called should the telephone-bell ring . Her negation was so definite that they forbore futile importunacy . She did not even waste her strength in urgency when they declared that they would keep the vigil with her . She merely essayed a remonstrance , and , since it was obviously vain , she desisted .