Twenty-five minutes to eleven
It marked twenty-five minutes to eleven ! `` Ah ! '' she said , with a shiver of fright . Twenty-five minutes to eleven ! Horace Velmont would not save her and nobody in the world and nothing in the world would save her , for there was no miracle that could place the wedding-ring upon her finger . The count , returning with the Comtesse d'Origny , asked her to sit down . She was a tall , lank , angular woman , who had always displayed a hostile feeling to Yvonne .