Twelve o’clock
She wrung her hands in agony , distressed that she could not at once repair the evil she had done . Ah ! how she revolted at the idea of having made another suffer , for she had always wished to be good , and to render those about her as happy as possible . Twelve o'clock would ere long ring out from the old church-tower ; the great elms of the garden of the Bishop 's palace hid the moon , which was just appearing above the horizon , and the chamber was still dark . Then , letting her head fall back upon the pillow , Angelique dwelt no longer upon these disturbing questions , as she wished to go to sleep . But this she could not do ; although she kept her eyes closed , her mind was still active ; she thought of the flowers which every night during the last fortnight she had found when she went upstairs upon the balcony before her window . Each evening it was a lovely bouquet of violets , which Felicien had certainly thrown there from the Clos-Marie .