A
quarter past eleven
But an evil spirit of dawdling seized me as I went . I stopped to gaze into shops , to chat with a passing acquaintance , and to have my boots blacked . Forgetting the passage of time altogether , I strolled leisurely along , stopping at the slightest temptation , and prolonging my halts as if reluctant to advance , when suddenly I heard the deep bell of Westminster clock chime a quarter . `` A quarter past eleven , '' thought I ; `` I must look sharp . '' And I did look sharp , and reached the place of appointment out of breath . My father was at the door . His face was clouded , and his hand trembled as he laid it on my shoulder , and said , `` Charlie , will _ nothing _ save you from ruin ? ''