eleven o'clock
My arguments are all there . Please ! -- _ Please ! _ '' So it came about that at eleven o'clock on a certain morning in August , Mr. Horatio Marcy discovered himself to be eyeing with critical , reluctant gaze a quaintly attractive , low-spreading white house among trees and vines . He became aware at the same time of a sudden close clasp on his arm . `` Here it is , '' said a low voice in his ear . `` Does it look habitable ? ''