six A.M.
I could have stood for anything but one of them sausage Counts . So I stows her picture away in the bottom bureau drawer , burns the postcard , and dodges Zenobia 's eye when she looks at me curious . It was all over . Yet I knew to an hour when her steamer would dock , and the mornin ' of the day it was due I rolls out of the feathers at six A.M. Just as natural as could be too , I gets out the new safety razor I 'd had hid away for a couple of months past , and inside of fifteen minutes I 'd had my first shave . Does that get by them keen eyes of Zenobia ! Not for a minute ! `` Ah ! ''