five o'clock
And I was deadly tired ; but I had no thought of sleep -- no wish for it . When I had unlocked the door of my boudoir and found Ivor Dundas gone , as I had hoped he would be , the next hope born in my heart was that he might by and by come back , or send -- with news . Hour after hour of deadly suspense passed on , and he did not come or make any sign . At five o'clock Marianne , who had flitted about all night like a restless ghost , made me drink a cup of hot chocolate , and actually put me to bed . My last words to her were : `` What is the use ? I ca n't sleep . It will be worse to lie and toss in a fever , than sit up . ''