nine o'clock
And _ that _ is the way I am able to control myself . '' She smiled , set the glass aside , and raised her eyes to the paling stars . When at last she stretched herself out on the bed , dawn was already lighting the room , but she fell asleep at once . It was a flushed and rather heavy slumber , not perfectly natural ; and when Kathleen entered at nine o'clock , followed by Geraldine 's maid with the breakfast-tray , the girl still lay with face buried in her hair , breathing deeply and irregularly , her lashes wet with tears . The maid retired ; Kathleen bent low over the feverishly parted lips , kissed them , hesitated , drew back sharply , and cast a rapid glance around the room . Then she went over to the dressing-table and lifted Rosalie 's antique flaçon ; and set it back slowly , as the girl turned her face on the pillow and opened her eyes . `` Is that you , Kathleen ? ''