twenty-five minutes to ten
Once or twice Emma caught the half reproachful gaze of her gray eyes , and had hard work to refrain from telling Grace that the hateful shadow was soon to be lifted . For Emma and Kathleen West had had a private confab , during which both girls had laughed and cried and laughed again in a most irrational manner . So the week wore away , and Friday came and went , leaving Grace still waiting and dreading . If she had happened to pass the Hotel Tourraine at twenty-five minutes to ten on Friday evening she would have seen a taxicab drive up to the entrance and a sprightly , little old lady step out of it , assisted by a keen-faced , black-eyed young woman , who took her by the arm and hurried her into the hotel . And if she had been on the station platform when the 11.40 train from the west pulled in she would have eagerly welcomed the stately dark-eyed woman who signaled a taxicab and drove off up College Avenue . Saturday morning dawned , clear and radiant . The glad light of early summer streamed in upon Grace .