eleven o'clock
She was sure that he would step out of the shadows into the sun with that familiar appearance of having just materialized from among the tree trunks ; over and over she was prepared , with prettily simulated surprise , to greet his coming . But the day passed , night drove them indoors to a cosy fireplace and lights and fragments of music which Gloria played wistfully or crashingly in bursts of impatience , and still he did not come . Mrs. Gaynor went off to bed at nine o'clock ; Gloria , suddenly absorbed in a book , elected to sit up and finish her chapter . She outwatched the log fire ; at eleven o'clock the air was chill , and Gloria as she went upstairs shivered a little and felt tired and vaguely sad . The next day she put on another pretty dress , did her hair in her favourite way , and went about the house as gay as a lark . The day dragged by ; King did not come . By nightfall the look in Gloria 's eyes had altered , and a stubborn expression played havoc with the tenderer curves of her mouth .