eleven o'clock
And also , though why he could not tell , he saw mentally the strong , rather wonderful eyes of that other guest at the supper-table , the man who had overheard his conversation , and had later got into earnest talk with the priest . He took out his watch and stole a glance at it . Two hours had slipped by . It was already eleven o'clock . Schliemann , meanwhile , utterly absorbed in his music , was playing a solemn measure . The piano sang marvellously . The power of a great conviction , the simplicity of great art , the vital spiritual message of a soul that had found itself -- all this , and more , were in the chords , and yet somehow the music was what can only be described as impure -- atrociously and diabolically impure .