nine o'clock
They talked of books , of music -- Christine played well in a dashing way . K. had brought her soft , tender little things , and had stood over her until her noisy touch became gentle . She played for him a little , while he sat back in the big chair with his hand screening his eyes . When , at last , he rose and picked up his cap ; it was nine o'clock . `` I 've taken your whole evening , '' he said remorsefully . `` Why do n't you tell me I am a nuisance and send me off ? '' Christine was still at the piano , her hands on the keys .