the hour of eight
She took it up with a caressing movement . `` How foolish I was to work myself up into such a fury of excitement , when Rex sent for me to present me with the jewels ! '' she laughed , softly , laying down the watch , and taking up an exquisite jeweled necklace , admired the purity and beauty of the soft , white , gleaming stones . The turret-bell had pealed the hour of eight ; she had yet half an hour . She never could tell what impulse prompted her to clasp the shining gems around her white throat , even before she had removed her dressing-robe . She leaned back dreamily in her cushioned chair , watching the effect in the mirror opposite . Steadfastly she gazed at the wondrous loveliness of the picture she made , the dark , lustrous eyes , gleaming with unwonted brilliancy , with their jetty fringe ; the rich , red lips , and glowing cheeks .