eleven o’clock
He stopped with us another couple of hours , yet could not sit still for a moment , but kept jumping up from his seat , laughing , cracking jokes with Sasha , bestowing stealthy kisses upon myself , pinching my hands , and making silent grimaces at Anna Thedorovna . At length , she turned him out of the house . In short , his transports of joy exceeded anything that I had yet beheld . On the festal day he arrived exactly at eleven o'clock , direct from Mass. . He was dressed in a carefully mended frockcoat , a new waistcoat , and a pair of new shoes , while in his arms he carried our pile of books . Next we all sat down to coffee -LRB- the day being Sunday -RRB- in Anna Thedorovna 's parlour . The old man led off the meal by saying that Pushkin was a magnificent poet .