eight o'clock
She lay where he had thrown her ; but someone 's hands were still pressed upon her shoulders , a voice was still whispering `` Murderer ! '' in her ear -- or was it -- was it `` Marion '' the voice whispered ? * * * * * `` Marion , how soundly you have slept -- and not even undressed ! It is eight o'clock , and time for you to go on night-duty . Doctor is going his evening rounds . '' Only half-awakened , the horror of her dream still holding her , Sister Marion pushed the nurse away from her , threw herself from her bed , and flew along the corridor . From the door of the private ward the doctor was issuing ; he stared at her wild , white look , her tumbled , uncovered hair .