eleven o'clock
With a nod , Dengate walked off . Hilliard saw him smooth his silk hat as he went ; then , without glancing at the card , he threw it away . The next morning was cold and wet . He lay in bed till eleven o'clock , when the charwoman came to put his rooms in order . At mid-day he left home , had dinner at the nearest place he knew where a meal could be obtained on Sunday , and afterwards walked the streets for an hour under his umbrella . The exercise did him good ; on returning he felt able to sit down by the fire , and turn over the plates of his great book on French Cathedrals . This , at all events , remained to him out of the wreck , and was a joy that could be counted upon in days to come .