eight o'clock
if he would only come -- no matter for his danger here . '' `` Poor Monsieur Auguste ! '' cried Brigitte , `` he must be toiling along the roads on foot . '' `` There 's eight o'clock striking now , '' cried the countess , in terror . She dared not stay away any longer from her guests ; but before re-entering the salon , she paused a moment under the peristyle of the staircase , listening if any sound were breaking the silence of the street . She smiled at Brigitte 's husband , who was standing sentinel at the door , and whose eyes seemed stupefied by the intensity of his attention to the murmurs of the street and night . Madame de Dey re-entered her salon , affecting gaiety , and began to play loto with the young people ; but after a while she complained of feeling ill , and returned to her chimney-corner .