Quarter to eleven
St. Leonard introduced me to her as his eldest daughter , Janie , and explained to her that behind the study door , if only she would take the trouble to look , she would find a time-table -- `` According to which , '' replied Miss Janie , with a smile , `` you ought at the present moment to be in the rick-yard , which is just where I want you . '' `` What time is it ? '' he asked , feeling his waistcoat for a watch that appeared not to be there . `` Quarter to eleven , '' I told him . He took his head between his hands . `` Good God ! '' he cried , `` you do n't say that ! ''