one o'clock
In his clammy room he picked up the algebra . For a quarter-hour he could not gather enough vigor to open it . In his lassitude , his elbows felt feeble , his fingers were ready to drop off . He slowly scratched the book open -- At one o'clock he was reading algebra , his face still and grim . But already it seemed less heartily brick-red . He listlessly telephoned to Claire , in the morning . `` Hello ?