Eleven o'clock
Everything with La Valliere , heart and look , body and mind , was concentrated in eager expectation . She said to herself that there was an hour left in which to indulge hope ; that until midnight had struck , the king might come , or write , or send ; that at midnight only would every expectation be useless , every hope lost . Whenever there was any noise in the palace , the poor girl fancied she was the cause of it ; whenever she heard any one pass in the courtyard below , she imagined they were messengers of the king coming to her . Eleven o'clock struck ; then a quarter past eleven : then half-past . The minutes dragged slowly on in this anxiety , and yet they seemed to pass far too quickly . And now , it struck a quarter to twelve . Midnight , midnight was near , the last , the final hope which remained , came in its turn .