ten o'clock
`` What a nice baby it is ! '' he said softly , stroking her silk knee . He knew himself to be a fool , but all that evening he let himself remain on the rack , wondering ; wondering if she 'd relent ; if her stoniness was n't just a mood , and if it had n't passed away ; wondering if he could n't break down that unnatural opposition in her . And when at ten o'clock she rose and nodded `` Good night , '' he detained her , asking again urgently : `` Ca n't we -- ca n't we -- be as we were before ? '' `` Thank heaven , no ! '' she replied , with a tiny shudder . Osborn looked at her narrowly and spoke crudely : `` Do you know , if I were like some men , I should tell you that I would n't stand such fool nonsense ; and there 'd be an end of it ? ''