one o'clock
But to-night was theirs . Their talk was that of lovers , whose only life is in each other 's presence . They leaned on an old fence , above the town , and whether they were grave , or whether Martie 's gay laugh and his eager echoing laugh rang out , the enchantment held them alike . It was after one o'clock when they came slowly down the hill , and let themselves silently into the shadowy garden . Martie fled noiselessly past the streak of light under Lydia 's door , gained her own room , and blinked at her lighted gas . The mirror showed her a pale , exalted face , with glittering blue eyes under loosened bronze hair . She was cold , excited , tired , and ecstatic .