Three o'clock
And now I think I 'll ring for some one to show me Joan 's room and creep in and suggest that she gets up . '' But there was no need . The door opened , and Joan came in , with eyes like stars . Three o'clock that afternoon found the Harleys still in Martin 's house , with Mrs. Harley fidgetting to get George out for a walk in order that she might enjoy an intimate , mother-talk with Joan , and Joan deliberately using all her gifts to keep him there in order to avoid it . Lunch had been a simple enough affair as lunches go , lifted above the ordinary ruck of such meals by the 1906 Chateau Latour and the Courvoisier Cognac from the cellar carefully stocked by Martin 's father . From the psychological side of it , however , nothing could well have been more complicated . George had not forgotten his reception by the Ludlows that day of his ever-to-be-remembered visit of inspection -- the cold , satirical eyes of Grandmother , the freezing courtesy of Grandfather , and the silent , eloquent resentment of the girl who saw herself on the verge of desertion by the one person who made life worth living in intermittent spots .