five minutes
past twelve
Nothing in it , she found , was ` good . ' And in St. Luke 's Square ` goodness ' meant honest workmanship , permanence , the absence of pretence . All the stuffs were cheap and showy and shabby ; all the furniture was cracked , warped , or broken . The clock showed five minutes past twelve at five o'clock . And further , dust was everywhere , except in those places where even the most perfunctory cleaning could not have left it . In the obscurer pleatings of draperies it lay thick . Sophia 's lip curled , and instinctively she lifted her peignoir .