midnight
Ah , there 's the General now going into his office . He hobbles so badly , does n't he ? When do you think you 'll be home ? '' `` I do n't know , '' I returned shortly , `` perhaps at midnight -- perhaps next week . '' My tone brought a flush to her cheek , and she looked at me with the faint wonder that I had seen first on the face of Miss Mitty when I went in to breakfast with her on that autumn morning . It was the look of race , of the Bland breeding , of the tradition that questioned , not violently , but gently , `` Can this be possible ? '' She drove on without replying to me , and as I entered my office , the faces of Miss Mitty and of Sally were confused into one by my disordered mind .