Ten o'clock
One tries to fathom certain faces that show up in provocative relief among this menagerie of shadows , this aviary of reflections . But one can not . They are visible , but you can see nothing in the depth of them . * * * * * `` Ten o'clock already , friends , '' says Bertrand . `` We 'll finish the camel 's humps off to-morrow . Time for by-by . '' Each one then slowly retires to rest , but the jabbering hardly pauses .