nearly twelve o'clock
Never shall I forget the sight . Evidently Voltaire had been claiming the fulfilment of her promise , for he was earnestly speaking when I entered , while Miss Forrest , pale as death , sat by an elderly lady , who I concluded to be her aunt . Miss Staggles also sat near , as grim and taciturn as ever . `` It is nearly twelve o'clock , '' I heard Voltaire say , `` and he 's not here . He dare not come ; how dare he ? He has left the country , and will never return again . '' `` But I am here , '' I said distinctly .