eleven o'clock
Edhart had made him believe , even to last year , that in this matter and a hundred others he was merely expressing the light preferences of a young man . Now , because he was obliged to emphasize his wishes by explicit orders , they became the definite likes and dislikes of a man of middle age . For relief Monte turned to the tennis courts , and played so much in the next week that he went stale and in the club tournament put up the worst game of his life . That evening , in disgust , he boarded the train for Monte Carlo , and before eleven o'clock had lost five thousand francs at roulette -- which was more than even he could afford for an evening 's entertainment that did not entertain . Without waiting for the croupier to rake in his last note , Monte hurried out and , to clear his head , walked all the way back to Nice along the Cornice Road . Above him , the mountains ; below , the blue Mediterranean ; while the road hung suspended between them like a silver ribbon . Yet even here he did not find content .