half past five
`` Yes , my lady . '' The footman went out . A clock chimed in the distance , where the piano stood behind the big azalea . It was half past five . Lady Sellingworth made up the fire again , though it did not really need mending ; then she stood beside it with one narrow foot resting on the low fender , holding her black dress up a little with her left hand . Was Fate going to leave her alone ? That was how she put it to herself .