Five minutes to
five
As five o'clock draws near , in spite of all , Fouillade begins again to intoxicate himself with his dream of wine , and he waits , with its gleam in his soul . What time is it ? -- A quarter to five . -- Five minutes to five . -- Now ! He is outside in black night . With great splashing skips he makes his way towards the tavern of Magnac , the generous and communicative Biterrois .