ten o'clock
It was true he was not well ; but his shrinking from activity was beyond what his degree of illness warranted . It was a day or two before she learned to view this seeming indolence as nothing but the desire to creep , for as many hours as possible out of the twenty-four , into the only refuge left to him . In his bed he was comparatively safe , not from the law , which he no longer had to fear , but from intrusion and inspection , and , above all , from sympathy . It was between nine and ten o'clock . The blinds were up , the windows open , and the sunshine was streaming in . A tray with his scarcely tasted breakfast on it stood beside the bed . Guion lay on his back , his head sunk deep into the pillows .