three minutes to ten
`` And mademoiselle 's witnesses ? '' inquired the notary , when he had accommodated the ladies with chairs . `` Will arrive at ten o'clock , '' answered Mademoiselle Brun , with a glance at the notary 's clock . It was three minutes to ten . The notary was a young man , with smooth hair brushed straight back from a high forehead . He was one of those men who look clever , which , in some respects , is better than being clever . For a man who really has brains usually perceives his own limitations , while he who looks clever , and is not , has that boundless faith in himself which serves to carry men very far in a world which is too lazy to get up and kick impertinence as it passes .