two o’clock
I could stand on my balcony and lift up my hands toward the south where she abides , and lift up my voice , and cry for her passionately aloud . There is no infernal foolishness in the world that I could not commit tonight . The maddest dingo dog , if he could appreciate my state of being , would learn points in insanity . It is two o'clock . I must go to sleep . I take from my shelves Epictetus , who might be expected to throw cold water on the most burning fever of the mind . I have not read far before I come across this consolatory apophthegm : `` The contest is unequal between a charming girl and a beginner in philosophy . ''