ten
o'clock
Through the flowered chintz curtains of her window the sun shone with a warmth out of all keeping with the time of the year , throwing such a joyous glow about everything in the room that she rubbed her eyes to be sure she was not dreaming . The evening before , everything had seemed so strange that Robin had not been able to take in small things ; now an immense curiosity to explore Gray Manor , and the grounds that were like Central Park , and the little town , and the hills around it , seized her . She slipped her feet out of bed and into the satin slippers which had been one of Miss Effie 's purchases . She dressed with feverish haste , rebuking herself for having slept so late , for her new wrist watch told her it was after ten o'clock . Ten o'clock -- why , on Patchin Place the morning was almost over at that hour , the streets about thundering with the work of the day . And here it was as still as night , or as -- a church on a weekday , Robin thought . Dressed , she opened the door of her room very quietly and peeped curiously out .