the hour of eleven o'clock
Many times in the months that followed have I thought of the lure of the laughing mischief in those eyes that were like beautiful blue flowers set in crystal , and how they were to lead me on into the strange land of men in search of those forbidden fruits . They were the first to offer me affection , excepting perhaps my fine reporter woman with the paper and pencil . And from that moment on I did very much enjoy myself in conversation with that Madam Mischief , while we together did watch the retirement of all of the persons in the train . She had many funny remarks to make and made me merry with them so that the hour of eleven o'clock had arrived before we had summoned the very black male chamber-maid to turn our seats into beds . All others were in sleep that was a confusion of sound from everywhere and we must stand in the aisle while the beds were being abstracted . `` Shall I take your bag into the dressing room , sah ? '' said the black male chamber-maid as if to intimate that I should leave the aisle free for his operations .