about eleven in the morning
And one of the articles , evidently written by a man who had been considerably farther east than San Francisco , ended with the following paragraph : In short , it was sublime , and with every movement and every gesture there was a something hidden , a suggestion of a personality and mysterious charm that we have always heretofore considered the exclusive property of just one woman in the world . But Desiree Le Mire is not in San Francisco ; though we declare that the performance of last evening was more than enough to rouse certain suspicions , especially in view of Le Mire 's mysterious disappearance from New York . I took the paper to Desiree in her room , and while she read the article stood gazing idly from a window . It was about eleven in the morning ; Harry had gone for a walk , saying that he would return in half an hour to join us at breakfast . `` Well ? '' said Desiree when she had finished . `` But it is not well , '' I retorted , turning to face her .