Eleven o'clock
`` Hm ! You 're a devil of a man to keep an appointment , are n't you ? '' Flint sneered at the master of the house . `` Eleven o'clock , and not up , yet ! '' `` Pardon me for remarking , my dear Flint , '' replied Waldron , stretching himself between the silken sheets and reaching for a cigarette , `` that the appointment was not of my making . Also that I was up , last night -- this morning , rather -- till three-thirty . And in the next place , that scoundrel Hazeltine , trimmed me out of eighty-six thousand in four hours -- '' `` Roulette again , you idiot ? ''