twenty-five minutes to twelve
So far north there was indeed a gleam of daylight left , but it was such a pale and ghostly ray , and the wreaths of mist swept so eerily and silently across the pane , that candle-light and shadows seemed vastly preferable . `` How much more time will there be ? '' whispered Mr. Gallosh presently . `` It is twenty-five minutes to twelve . '' `` Your lordship ! Can we leave at twelve ? '' The Baron started .