Half past eleven
I 've been doing nothing else since I was ten years old . '' It was simply horrible . The woman was thirty if she was a day . Half past eleven . Midnight gathering in the garden outside . The room was reflected on the window-pane from the solid darkness behind it -- the candles , the green table , the players -- a fantastic , illusive scene , shimmering on the ground of night as on some sinister reality . Mrs. Fazakerly was dashing down her cards at random , and even the Colonel shuffled uneasily in his seat .