twenty minutes to eight
As a time-killer , there is no liqueur more potent , but , regarded in the light of subsequent occurrences , it would be hard to say exactly how far the cunning monkish decoction helped in determining his wayward actions . Undoubtedly , some fantastic influence carried him beyond those bounds of calm self-possession within which everyone who knew John Delancy Curtis would have expected to find him . His subsequent light-headedness , his placid acceptance of a mad romance as the one thing that was inevitable , his ready yielding to impulse , his no less stubborn refusal to return to the beaten path of common sense -- these unlikely traits in a character gifted with the New England dourness of purpose can only be explained , if at all , as arising from some unsuspected hereditary streak of knight-errantry brought into sudden and exotic life by the good wines of France . Be that as it may , at twenty minutes to eight he paid what he owed , lighted a cigar , donned his hat , and , still carrying the overcoat , was walking to the office to leave word about the key , when his attention was attracted by the peculiar behavior of the man who had pushed against him at the cigar counter . This person , apparently obeying a signal from another man of his own type who had just emerged from the elevator , hastened from the café , and the two ran to the door . Now , the weather had been mild during the afternoon , and the revolving shutters of the doorway were folded back to allow of the overheated hall being cooled . A porter stood there , and it was ascertained afterwards that , noticing a certain air of flurry and confusion about the foreigners , he asked if they wanted a taxi .