fifteen minutes after eight
Shima 's announcement of dinner only sent her eyes faster down the page . But when , with a faint , smooth rustle , Mrs. Britton came in , she let the paper fall . She always faced her chaperon with a little nervousness , and with the same sense of strangeness with which she so frequently regarded her house . `` It 's fifteen minutes after eight , '' Mrs. Britton observed . `` We would better not wait any longer . '' She took the place opposite Flora 's at the round table . Flora sat down , still holding the paper , flushed and bolt upright with her news .