a quarter past eleven
Bertha was already dressed , looking deliciously fresh and pink , and sparkling and fair as the sunshine . A second of acute physical jealousy made him remark rather bitterly before he left that her hat was a little bit striking , was n't it ? Upon which she at once , in her good-tempered , amiable way -LRB- only too delighted that he should have noticed anything in her toilette even to object to it -RRB- , plucked the white feather out of the black hat and put a little coat on over her dress , so as to look less noticeable . At a quarter past eleven Percy paid his shilling at the gallery , walked in , looking slowly at the drawings on the walls in the narrow passage that led to the rooms . The moment he reached the first door on the left-hand side , which was open , he saw through it , exactly opposite to him , seated on a sofa , Bertha , looking up and chattering to Nigel Hillier , who was looking down in a protecting manner , and listening with great interest to her conversation . Neither of them saw him . The pain of finding one part of the letter true was so startling and terrible that he dared not look another moment ; a second more , and he might have made a scandal , perhaps for ever after to be regretted , and possibly entirely groundless .