three o'clock
Jacques Rival also came up , cigar in mouth , and Duroy rose to take leave , afraid of spoiling , by some unlucky remark , the work done , his task of conquest begun . He bowed , softly pressed the little outstretched hands of the women , and then heartily shook those of the men . He noted that the hand of Jacques Rival , warm and dry , answered cordially to his grip ; that of Norbert de Varenne , damp and cold , slipped through his fingers ; that of Daddy Walter , cold and flabby , was without expression or energy ; and that of Forestier was plump and moist . His friend said to him in a low tone , `` To-morrow , at three o'clock ; do not forget . '' `` Oh ! no ; do n't be afraid of that . '' When he found himself once more on the stairs he felt a longing to run down them , so great was his joy , and he darted forward , going down two steps at a time , but suddenly he caught sight in a large mirror on the second-floor landing of a gentleman in a hurry , who was advancing briskly to meet him , and he stopped short , ashamed , as if he had been caught tripping .