Seven
o'clock
`` Are n't you going to be late , Chris ? '' Norma asked , when they met at the top of the stairs . Fresh from a bath , with her rich dark hair pushed back in two shining wings from her smooth forehead , and her throat rising white and soft from the frills of a black lacy gown , she was the incarnation of youth and sweetness as she looked up at him . `` Seven o'clock ! '' she reminded him . For answer he surprised her by catching her hand , and staring gravely down at her . `` Were you angry at me , Norma ? ''