eleven o'clock
Give him the Dickens ! '' Mr. Jones laughed loudly at his own jest . Sprouse shook hands with his victim . `` I was just saying to our friend Jones here , Mr. Barnes , that you look like a more than ordinarily intelligent man and that if I had a chance to buzz with you for a quarter of an hour I could present a proposition -- '' `` Sorry , Mr. Sprouse , but it is half-past eleven o'clock , and I am dog-tired . You will have to excuse me . '' `` To-morrow morning will suit me , '' said Sprouse cheerfully , `` if it suits you . '' After thrashing about in his bed for seven sleepless hours , Barnes arose and gloomily breakfasted alone .