midnight
The Countess rose , prepared the hot beverage with the care and precaution we have learned from the Russians , then offered a cup to Musadieu , another to Bertin , following this with plates containing sandwiches of _ pate de foies gras _ and little English and Austrian cakes . The Count approached the portable table , where was also an assortment of syrups , liqueurs , and glasses ; he mixed himself a drink , then discreetly disappeared into the next room . Bertin found himself again facing Musadieu , and felt once more the sudden desire to thrust outside this bore , who , now put on his mettle , talked at great length , told stories , repeated jests , and made some himself . The painter glanced continually at the clock , the hands of which approached midnight . The Countess noticed his glances , understood that he wished to speak to her alone , and , with that ability of a clever woman of the world to change by indescribable shades of tone the whole atmosphere of a drawing-room , to make it understood , without saying anything , whether one is to remain or to go , she diffused about her , by her attitude alone , by the bored expression of her face and eyes , a chill as if she had just opened a window . Musadieu felt this chilly current freezing his flow of ideas ; and , without asking himself the reason , he felt a sudden desire to rise and depart . Bertin , as a matter of discretion , followed his example .