nine o'clock
`` What will you do if I do n't ? '' `` I know , '' and I flew upstairs , tore the poor butterfly from between the leaves of the Bible , crushed it in my hand , and brought it down to her . She did not cry when she saw it , but choked a little , and turned away her head . It was now dark , and hearing a bustle in the entry I looked out , and saw several staid men slowly rubbing their feet on the door-mat ; the husbands had come to escort their wives home , and by nine o'clock they all went . Veronica and I stayed by the door after they had gone . `` Look at Mrs. Dexter , '' she said ; `` I put the mice in her workbag . '' I burst into a laugh , which she joined in presently .