nine o'clock
He rambled on , turning about the room again , partly like a person whose sequences were naturally slow but also a little as if , though he knew what he had in mind , there were still a scruple attached to it that he was trying to rub off . ` I take it that is n't what I must sit up to listen to , Lionel , is it ? ' Laura said , wearily . ` Why , you do n't want to go to bed at nine o'clock , do you ? That 's all rot , of course . But I want you to help me . ' ` To help you -- how ? '