eleven o'clock
We 'll go . '' Even this logical exposition had not convinced him , but he did not gainsay as they entered the hall and Istra rang for the landlady . His knees grew sick and old and quavery as he heard the landlady 's voice loud below-stairs : `` Now wot do they want ? It 's eleven o'clock . Are n't they ever done a-ringing and a-ringing ? '' The landlady , the tired thin parchment-faced North Countrywoman , whose god was Respectability of Lodgings , listened in a frightened way to Istra 's blandly superior statement : `` Mr. Wrenn and I have been invited to join an excursion out of town that leaves to-night . We 'll pay our rent and leave our things here . ''