two o'clock
She sank down on the porch and buried her face in her hands . Would this torture never end ? The odor of something burning reached her and , leaping to her feet , she ran to the kitchen and pushed back the kettle of potatoes that had started to scorch . There was no one to eat the lunch she had spread on the table and at two o'clock she began to mechanically put things back in their places , when she heard a step on the porch . Running into the living-room , hardly able to breath in her great anxiety , she saw her brother stagger in and fall as one spent from a long race on the cot-bed they were using as a day lounge . For a moment he lay white and still , his eyes closed . Jane knelt at his side and held his limp hand .