eight o'clock
Ida de la Molle was a large , strong woman , and there was about her a swing and a lissom grace which is very rare , and as attractive as it is rare . She was now nearly six-and-twenty years of age , and not having begun to wither in accordance with the fate which overtakes all unmarried women after thirty , was at her very best . Harold Quaritch , glancing at her well-poised head , her perfect neck and arms -LRB- for she was in evening dress -RRB- and her gracious form , thought to himself that he had never seen a nobler-looking woman . `` Why , my dear father , '' she went on as she watched the candle burn up , `` you made such a fuss this morning about the dinner being punctually at half-past seven , and now it is eight o'clock and you are not dressed . It is enough to ruin any cook , '' and she broke off for the first time , seeing that her father was not alone . `` Yes , my dear , yes , '' said the old gentleman , `` I dare say I did . It is human to err , my dear , especially about dinner on a fine evening .