half past eleven
`` I can not remember who it is , or why you remind me of him . But you remind me of some one very much . '' He picked up the _ Rücksack _ which he had taken from his shoulders . It was half past eleven . Sylvia took a last look over the wide prospect of jagged ridge , ice pinnacles and rock spires . She looked down once more upon the slim snow peak of Mont Dolent and the grim wall of rocks at the Col. `` I shall never forget this , '' she said , with shining eyes . `` Never . ''