eleven o'clock
Let us have these glasses filled again , for 't is good to keep idiosyncrasies well moistened , they being subject to deterioration in a dry moral atmosphere . '' So , the man of literature makes good , to my notion , for he pays , cheerful , for everything , the capital of me and Tobin being exhausted by prediction . But Tobin is sore , and drinks quiet , with the red showing in his eye . By and by we moved out , for 't was eleven o'clock , and stands a bit upon the sidewalk . And then the man says he must be going home , and invites me and Tobin to walk that way . We arrives on a side street two blocks away where there is a stretch of brick houses with high stoops and iron fences . The man stops at one of them and looks up at the top windows which he finds dark . ''