About eleven o'clock
... He argued the point with himself , almost passively , stroking his brown beard meditatively ; but the fact that he could argue it at all showed that the foundations of his philosophy were shaken . Well , then ... Frank ... What about him ? Where was he ? -LRB- II -RRB- About eleven o'clock a key turned in his outer door and a very smart-looking page-boy came through , after tapping , with a telegram on a salver . Dick was writing to Hamilton 's , in Berners Street , about a question of gray mats for the spare bedroom , and he took the telegram and tore open the envelope with a preoccupied air . Then he uttered a small exclamation . `` Any answer , sir ? ''