noon
She rose from the table , her face very white , her hand pressing upon her corsage . A moment she looked at him . Then : `` Do not let us talk of ourselves , '' she exclaimed at last . `` There is a man in the Conciergerie who dies at noon unless you are forthcoming before then to save him . He himself will not betray you because he -- No matter why , he will not . Tell me , Monsieur , how do you , who account yourself a man of honour above everything , intend to deal with this situation ? '' He shrugged his shoulders .