five o'clock in the afternoon
He was an extremely human man . But she , Linda , it seemed , was an inhuman woman . The days ran into weeks that added another month to spring ; a June advanced sultry with heat ; and , suddenly as usual , a maid at the door of her room announced Pleydon . It was five o'clock in the afternoon , she had to dress , and she sent him a message that he must n't expect her in a hurry . She paused in her deliberate preparations for a long thoughtful gaze into a mirror ; there was not yet a shadow on her face , the trace of a line at her eyes . The sharp smooth turning and absolute whiteness of her bare shoulders were flawless . At first it appeared to Linda that he , too , had not changed .