nine o'clock
Stoller seemed about to answer ; he hesitated ; and before he had made any response , the curtain rose . There are few prettier things than Carlsbad by night from one of the many bridges which span the Tepl in its course through the town . If it is a starry night , the torrent glides swiftly away with an inverted firmament in its bosom , to which the lamps along its shores and in the houses on either side contribute a planetary splendor of their own . By nine o'clock everything is hushed ; not a wheel is heard at that dead hour ; the few feet shuffling stealthily through the Alte Wiese whisper a caution of silence to those issuing with a less guarded tread from the opera ; the little bowers that overhang the stream are as dark and mute as the restaurants across the way which serve meals in them by day ; the whole place is as forsaken as other cities at midnight . People get quickly home to bed , or if they have a mind to snatch a belated joy , they slip into the Theater-Cafe , where the sleepy Frauleins serve them , in an exemplary drowse , with plates of cold ham and bottles of the gently gaseous waters of Giesshubl . Few are of the bold badness which delights in a supper at Schwarzkopf 's , and even these are glad of the drawn curtains which hide their orgy from the chance passer . The invalids of Burnamy 's party kept together , strengthening themselves in a mutual purpose not to be tempted to eat anything which was not strictly ` kurgemass ' .