midnight
At about half past ten she heard the prince go upstairs to his own room , though she fancied that outside her door he had paused for a second to listen . That was the culminating minute of her self-repression . Once it was over , and he had gone on his way , she knew the rest would be easier . By midnight she had only to wait quietly . In the old gray rag and the battered black hat she surveyed herself without emotion . Since making her last attempt to escape her relation to all these things had changed . They had become less significant , less important .