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Updated: May 21, 2025
'I wonder what sort of a spade he'll have got for us. When tea was over, the door opened suddenly, and we looked up, expecting to see Jem enter with our purchases. But it was not Jem; it was his wife. 'Sandy, she said, 'what time do you make it? My clock's stopped! 'Twenty minutes past six, said my grandfather, looking at his watch. 'Past six! she repeated. 'Why, Jem's very late!
Poteet, "an' the clock's too fast, bekaze it hain't skacely bin more'u a minnit sence the chickens crowed for ten." This remark contained the essence of hospitality, for it was intended to convey to Mrs. Poteet's guests the information that if they were not ready to retire, she was prepared to discredit her clock in their interests. But there was not much delay on the part of the guests.
Joe nodded, glancing at the ship's clock at the end of the cabin. "Two minutes after if our clock's right. Say, Steve, the next time we go out in a fog we'll um we won't go, eh?" "Not while I'm running this hooker," agreed Steve with intense conviction. "Now that it's over, Joe, I don't mind telling you that I was a bit worried. I wanted like anything to drop anchor back there by the jetty."
So Lance forbore to finish the "ah-ee, oh-ee," much to Belle's disappointment. "But you know Tom's been out riding hard and not getting much sleep, so I guess maybe we better cut out the concert, honey," she told Lance, getting up and laying her plump, brown arms across his shoulders. "My heavens, Lance, you kinda make me think the clock's set back thirty years, when I look at you.
Bea shivered as the clock's ticking sounded loudly through the halls, and thought of last night when they all stood there, in that same room, and wondered where Ernestine was; and Mrs. Dering shivered, though, for quite another reason, for her mind held far different memories. Just then, Ernestine turned, as though awakening, and the clock began to strike twelve.
His wife watched him in silence; her eyes followed the tall, bent figure as it swung back and forth with the steadiness of a clock's pendulum. He had not spoken since they entered the room, nor had she moved from the spot where he left her when he released her hand. All this time she had been holding the wrist he had grasped so cruelly.
It was not the clock's chime that had awakened her she thought. It must have been, something more, she was so very wide awake indeed, and her senses were so clear. One minute later she found out what it was. There was some slight confusion down-stairs; a door was opened and closed, and she heard the sound of voices in the entrance-hall.
And presently nothing was to be heard but the steady ticking of the clock on the mantel. Then Mr. Jeminy, for once, could find nothing to say. It seemed to him that instead of the clock's ticking, he heard the footsteps of death in the house, on the stair . . . tik, tok, tik, tok . . . And he sighed, with sadness and horror, "Ah, my friend," he thought, "are you as frightened as I am?"
"Clock's fast," he said, rising and adjusting it. His wife rose almost at the same moment, and with slow deliberate movements began to clear the table. "What what about dinner?" said Mr. Henshaw, still trying to control his fears. "Dinner!" repeated Mrs. Henshaw, in a terrible voice. "You go and tell that creature you were on the 'bus with to get your dinner." Mr.
If he'd remembered to send down money, the girl would have been bewildered, and perhaps have come in to ask for instructions. There was room in Beverley's brain for no other thought than "How am I to get that parcel and give it to Clo?" "Shut your eyes," said Roger. "The clock's going to strike four now; don't open your eyes till it stops."
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