five minutes to two
I was driving , with Nobby beside me , while Adèle and Berry sat on the back seat . Our thoughts were not unnaturally dwelling upon the sale , and now and again I caught fragments of conversation which suggested that my brother-in-law was commenting upon the power of money and the physiognomy of Mr. Dunkelsbaum -- whose photograph had appeared in the paper that very morning , to grace an interview -- with marked acerbity . Once in a while a ripple of laughter from Adèle came to my ears , but for the most part it was a grave discourse , for Berry felt very bitter , and Adèle , whose father 's father was the son of an English squire , had taken to heart the imminent disseizure with a rare sympathy . It was five minutes to two when we slid out of Lullaby Coppice and on to the London road . A furlong ahead the road swung awkwardly to the left -- a bend which the unexpected _ débouchement _ of a by-road rendered a veritable pitfall for the unwary motorist . I slowed for the turn cautiously , for I knew the place , but I was not surprised when , on rounding the corner , we found ourselves confronted with a state of affairs presenting all the elements of a first-class smash . What had happened was transparently clear .