 When we got to the front door, Mr. Boynton apologized for keeping me out until the wee small hours. What time was it, Connie? Five minutes of ten. Of course, by the time he got finished saying goodnight, the way he says it, it was considerably later. What time was it then? Four minutes of ten. Well, I'd better take my shower and get dressed, Mrs. Davis. All right, Connie.