a quarter
past eleven
Madame is ready , her coiffure suits her , she smiles at herself in the glass as she slips the glove-stretchers into the twelve-button gloves . Monsieur has made a failure of his necktie and broken off three buttons . Traces of decided ill-humor are stamped on his features . Monsieur -- Come , let us go down , the carriage is waiting ; it is a quarter past eleven . -LRB- Aside . -RRB- Another sleepless night . Sharp , coachman ; Rue de la Pepiniere , number 224 .