three o’clock in the morning
He saw then that she rose up proudly , with a charming , stately air of a true princess , in spite of her real simplicity . And she was always exactly like the fair maiden of other years , with the same flower-like delicacy , the same tender tears , clear as smiles . A species of intoxication came from her , the warm breath of which mounted to his face -- the same shadow of a remembrance which made him at night throw himself on his devotional chair , sobbing so deeply that he disturbed the sacred silence of the Palace . Until three o'clock in the morning of this same day he had contended with himself again , and this long history of love , this story of passion , would only revive and excite his incurable wound . But behind his impassiveness nothing was seen , nothing betrayed his effort at self-control and his attempt to conquer the beating of his heart . Were he to lose his life 's blood , drop by drop , no one should see it flow , and he now simply became paler , was silent and immovable . At last this great persistent silence made Angelique desperate , and she redoubled her prayers .