midnight
I had never cared for visitors before , but now I was glad of them , for I knew there was sure to be talk of Ariadne . Kotlovitch , the spiritualist , used often to come to talk about his sister , and sometimes he brought with him his friend Prince Maktuev , who was as much in love with Ariadne as I was . To sit in Ariadne 's room , to finger the keys of her piano , to look at her music was a necessity for the prince -- he could not live without it ; and the spirit of his grandfather Ilarion was still predicting that sooner or later she would be his wife . The prince usually stayed a long time with us , from lunch to midnight , saying nothing all the time ; in silence he would drink two or three bottles of beer , and from time to time , to show that he too was taking part in the conversation , he would laugh an abrupt , melancholy , foolish laugh . Before going home he would always take me aside and ask me in an undertone : `` When did you see Ariadne Grigoryevna last ? Was she quite well ? I suppose she 's not tired of being out there ? ''