one o'clock
The thought of Olivier flashed through her mind . Was he ill ? Dead , perhaps , too ! The ten minutes she had to wait seemed interminable to her ; then , when she had torn open the despatch and recognized the name of her husband , she read : `` I telegraph to tell you that our friend Bertin leaves for Roncieres on the one o'clock train . Send Phaeton station . Love . '' `` Well , mamma ? ''