three o'clock
Better far and braver to have done the explaining and setting right herself , if only she could have found some way of releasing herself from the compact of silence made with Diana and Bellew . Sunday , morning dawned very perfectly . They were all sleeping on the stoep , their beds in line against the wall , Clive upon the oak chest , which her austere self-discipline commanded . At three o'clock , though a few stars lingered , the sky was already tinting itself with the lovely lustre of a pink pearl . No sound broke the stillness but the breathing of the sleepers and the soft perpetual dropping of acorns from the branches overhead . The peace and beauty of it smote April to the heart . She pressed her fingers over her eyes and tears oozed through them , trickling down her face .