about six o’clock
`` Yes , '' he added mechanically , `` I just now saw your father again with Monsieur de Quinsac . '' `` I know , I know , '' replied Camille , with the suffering yet scoffing air of a girl who is ignorant of nothing . `` Well , Monsieur l'Abbe , if you have a line from papa for mamma , you must wait till mamma has finished her business . You might come to the house about six o'clock , but I doubt if you 'll find her there , as she may well be detained . '' While Camille thus spoke , her murderous eyes glistened , and each word she uttered , simple as it seemed , became instinct with ferocity , as if it were a knife , which she would have liked to plunge into her mother 's breast . In all certainty she had never before hated her mother to such a point as this in her envy of her beauty and her happiness in being loved . And the irony which poured from the girl 's virgin lips , before that simple priest , was like a flood of mire with which she sought to submerge her rival .