midnight
It 's from Kazan , dated yesterday . '' The maid -- a pale , very slim girl with an indifferent expression -- found several telegrams in the basket under the table , and handed them to the doctor without a word ; but all these were telegrams from patients . Then they looked in the drawing-room , and in Olga Dmitrievna 's room . It was past midnight . Nikolay Yevgrafitch knew his wife would not be home very soon , not till five o'clock at least . He did not trust her , and when she was long away he could not sleep , was worried , and at the same time he despised his wife , and her bed , and her looking-glass , and her boxes of sweets , and the hyacinths , and the lilies of the valley which were sent her every day by some one or other , and which diffused the sickly fragrance of a florist 's shop all over the house . On such nights he became petty , ill-humoured , irritable , and he fancied now that it was very necessary for him to have the telegram he had received the day before from his brother , though it contained nothing but Christmas greetings .