eight o'clock in the morning
It was here that Miss Wollaston chopped herself off short , hearing -- this time it was no false alarm -- Paula 's step in the hall . She 'd have been amazed , scandalized , profoundly indignant , dear good-hearted lady that she was , had some expert in the psychology of the unconscious pointed out to her that the reason she had begun talking about Portia was that it gave her an outlet for expressing her misgivings about her own brother 's marriage . Paula , of course , was a different thing altogether . What a beautiful creature she was , even at eight o'clock in the morning at the end of an abruptly terminated night 's sleep . She looked lovelier than ever as she came in through the shadowy doorway . She was n't a true blonde like Mary . Her thick strong hair was a sort of golden glorification of brown , her skin a warm tone of ivory .