Twenty minutes past twelve
`` I believe mother is calling me , '' she said . `` Would you mind telling her , Mr. Laine , I am coming right away ? '' Laine looked at his watch . Twenty minutes past twelve . Christmas was over . Two days after were over also , and in the morning most of the guests were going away . From the basket by the hearth he threw a fresh log on the smoldering fire , lifted it with his foot farther back on the hot ashes , drew the old-fashioned arm-chair closer to the fender , and , turning down the light from the lamp on the pie-crust table near the mantel , sat down and lighted a fresh cigar .