midnight
She sat on one of the divans between Gora and Todd , while Scores lay on the floor at her feet , his head on a cushion , one foot waving over a lifted knee , the perfect picture of the contented playwright . They kept up a continuous murmur , punctuated with gales of laughter . Clavering had sulkily taken a chair beside Babette Gold , whose metallic humor sometimes amused him , but she went sound asleep before his eyes , and he could only gaze into the fire and console himself with visions of a week hence , when these cursed people had gone and he was the most fortunate man on earth . His room was downstairs next to Mr. Dinwiddie 's , and he made up his mind to let himself out softly at midnight , throw pebbles at her window and whisper to her as she leaned from her casement . It was a scene that if introduced into a modern play would have driven him from the theatre and tipped his pen with vitriol next morning , but it appealed to him , somehow , as a fitting episode in his own high romance . But he was asleep before his head touched the pillow , and did not lift an eyelash until the first bell roused him at seven o'clock . Then , however , he lay for some time thinking , soberly .