nine o'clock
You 've read four chapters since I spoke to you the last time . Come now ! '' Molly Brandeis would see to the doors , and the windows , and the clock , and then , waiting for the weary little figures to climb the stairs , would turn out the light , and , hairpins in one hand , corset in the other , perhaps , mount to bed . By nine o'clock the little household would be sleeping , the children sweetly and dreamlessly , the tired woman restlessly and fitfully , her overwrought brain still surging with the day 's problems . It was not like a household at rest , somehow . It was like a spirited thing standing , quivering for a moment , its nerves tense , its muscles twitching . Perhaps you have quite forgotten that here were to be retailed two epochal events in Fanny Brandeis 's life .