eleven o'clock
she murmured , at last , still shrouding her eyes . `` Say , -- ` Will , I think I love you just a little . ' '' No answer . Only beating hearts , only quick-drawn breath , only the distant call of the sentry , `` Half-past eleven o'clock ; '' only the dying strains of the `` Immortellen '' wafting out through the open casements . `` Try , Maidie , '' he whispered , eagerly . `` Try before the call comes back to the guard-house . Try before the last notes of that sweet waltz die away for good and all .