a
quarter to twelve
What was it made the flames of the fire shoot up , shoot down , in that queer way ? But watching it for awhile , she did at last doze off a bit . And then -- and then Mrs. Bunting woke with a sudden thumping of her heart . Woke to see that the fire was almost out -- woke to hear a quarter to twelve chime out -- woke at last to the sound she had been listening for before she fell asleep -- the sound of Mr. Sleuth , wearing his rubber-soled shoes , creeping downstairs , along the passage , and so out , very , very quietly by the front door . But once she was in bed Mrs. Bunting turned restless . She tossed this way and that , full of discomfort and unease . Perhaps it was the unaccustomed firelight dancing on the walls , making queer shadows all round her , which kept her so wide awake .