ten o'clock
K. 's even voice , the picture he drew of life on the island , the stillness of the little hotel in its mid-week dullness , seemed to quiet the boy 's tortured nerves . He was nearer to peace than he had been for many days . But he smoked incessantly , lighting one cigarette from another . At ten o'clock he left K. and went for the car . He paused for a moment , rather sheepishly , by K. 's chair . `` I 'm feeling a lot better , '' he said . `` I have n't got the band around my head .