about twenty minutes past nine
Antonia had donned her rusty brown velveteen dress , and sat with her hands folded in front of her in a deep armchair . Her black hair was combed high over her forehead ; her eyes were bright . Anxiety had brought a slight colour into her cheeks ; she looked almost handsome . At about twenty minutes past nine a cab was heard to stop at the door , and a moment later Sir John Thornton was ushered into the drawing-room . `` How do you do ? '' he said , in a stiff voice , to Antonia . `` Where is your mother ?