twenty minutes past eight
The thought that women were wearisome creatures after all presented itself to his fatigued brain . But he was too generous to harbour it for more than an instant . This man , hurt cruelly in his vanity , remained magnanimous in his conduct , allowing himself no satisfaction of a bitter smile or of a contemptuous gesture . With true greatness of soul , he only glanced at the wooden clock on the wall , and said in a perfectly calm but forcible manner : `` Five and twenty minutes past eight , Winnie . There 's no sense in going over there so late . You will never manage to get back to-night . '' Before his extended hand Mrs Verloc had stopped short .