four o’clock
she asked , blanched , her lips going white . She was terribly susceptible to these evil prognostications , but he only shook his head . `` I do n't know , '' he said , `` I do n't know . '' Gerald did not come in from his skiing until nightfall , he missed the coffee and cake that she took at four o'clock . The snow was in perfect condition , he had travelled a long way , by himself , among the snow ridges , on his skis , he had climbed high , so high that he could see over the top of the pass , five miles distant , could see the Marienhütte , the hostel on the crest of the pass , half buried in snow , and over into the deep valley beyond , to the dusk of the pine trees . One could go that way home ; but he shuddered with nausea at the thought of home ; -- one could travel on skis down there , and come to the old imperial road , below the pass . But why come to any road ?