Twenty-five minutes past eight
When this pastime was exhausted he had recourse to another , the nature of which proved that if the expected beauty had not punctuality for a virtue , she was not one of those little exacting creatures always ready to faint or whose delicate nerves make them intolerant of their lovers ' imperfections . Plunging his hand into one of the pockets in his redingote , the waiting cavalier drew out a sealskin case filled with Havana cigars , and , lighting one , began to smoke , while continuing his promenade . But at the end of a few moments this palliative , like the first , had exhausted its effect . `` Twenty-five minutes past eight ! '' exclaimed Marillac , as he looked at his watch a second time ; `` I should like to know what this little miniature rose takes me for ? It was hardly worth the trouble of over-straining this poor horse , who looks as wet as if he had come out of the river . It is enough to give him inflammation of the lungs .