A quarter past three
But the object of his remarks , all unconscious of them , had gone on to the platform . With the same appearance of not wishing to be seen , she looked into the carriages . There was one almost empty ; she entered it , took her seat in the corner , drew her veil still more closely over her face , and never raised her eyes . A quarter past three ; the bell rings loudly . There is a shrill whistle , and then , slowly at first , the train moves out of the station . A few minutes more , and the long walls , the numerous arches , are all left behind , and they are out in the blinding sunlight , hurrying through the clear , golden day as though life and death depended upon its speed . On , on , past the green meadows , where the hedgerows were filled with woodbines and wild roses , and the clover filled the air with fragrance ; past gray old churches whose tapering spires pointed to heaven ; past quiet homesteads sleeping in the sunshine ; past silent , quaint villages and towns ; past broad rivers and dark woods .