eleven o'clock
I was regularly disappointed . '' `` That 's too bad , '' murmured Laura , and then , for obscure reasons , she had the stupidity to add : `` And we were in the art gallery the whole evening . He played beautifully . '' Towards eleven o'clock that morning Laura took her usual ride , but she had not been away from the house quite an hour before she turned back . All at once she had remembered something . She returned homeward , now urging Crusader to a flying gallop , now curbing him to his slowest ambling walk . That which had so abruptly presented itself to her mind was the fact that Corthell 's match box -- his name engraved across its front -- still lay in plain sight upon the table in her sitting-room -- the peculiar and particular place of her privacy .