about eleven o'clock
He no longer cared that June was only two weeks off . He would not even have cared if June had been the end of it all . He had settled into his stupor . And then one morning at about eleven o'clock he was summoned to the telephone by the switchboard operator . It was a drowsy morning , full of dronings and rustlings , and he was very heavy lidded as he stepped into the booth reserved for such calls . He had been expecting a message from Indianapolis about some shipment that had gone astray and for which he was putting in a claim . He sank heavily down upon the hard , polished little stool .