Even the young-eyed cherubim , choiring on meadows of asphodel , might cease their harping for a time to listen to a tale of the vanished earth , told by that golden tongue . Some vague thought of this was in our minds as we looked at her ; and somehow it comforted us . Not even the Judgment was so greatly to be feared if after it we were the SAME , our own precious little identities unchanged . `` It must be getting handy two , '' said Cecily . `` It seems as if we 'd been waiting here for ever so much longer than an hour . '' Conversation languished . We watched and waited nervously . The moments dragged by , each seeming an hour . Would two o'clock never come and end the suspense ? We all became very tense . Even Peter had to stop reading . Any unaccustomed sound or sight in the world about us struck on our taut senses like the trump of doom . A cloud passed over the sun and as the sudden shadow swept across the orchard we turned pale and trembled . A wagon rumbling over a plank bridge in the hollow made Sara Ray start up with a shriek . The slamming of a barn door over at Uncle Roger 's caused the cold perspiration to break out on our faces . `` I do n't believe it 's the Judgment Day , '' said Felix , `` and I never have believed it . But oh , I wish that clock would strike two . '' `` Ca n't you tell us a story to pass the time ? '' I entreated the Story Girl . She shook her head .
`` No , it would be no use XXXXX try .
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