Quarter past
seven
Silence again . Inside the drawing-room , Mr. Brown was growing restive . `` Is dinner to be kept waiting for that youth all night ? Quarter past seven ! You know it 's just what I ca n't stand -- having my meals interfered with . Is my digestion to be ruined simply because this young nincompoop chooses to pay his social calls at seven o'clock at night ? '' `` Then we must ask him to dinner , '' said Mrs. Brown , desperately .