a quarter to eleven
cried the woman . She opened the door , passed out , and shut it with a snap . `` Well , I 'm d -- d , '' said Jones , for the second time in connection with Rochester . The clock on the mantelpiece pointed to a quarter to eleven ; the faint sound of the car had ceased . The lady of the feather boa had evidently taken her departure , and the house had resumed its cloistral silence . He waited a moment to make sure , then he went into the hall where a huge flunkey -- a new one , more curious than the others , was lounging near the door . `` My hat , '' said Jones .