Twenty-five minutes past eight
At last the cross-roads came , and we swung to the right . We had covered a third of the ground . I glanced at the gleaming clock sunk in the dash . Twenty-five minutes past eight . An hour and fifty minutes -- and a hundred miles to go . With a frightful shock I realised that , _ even with the daylight to help me , I had used a third of my time _ . I began to wish frantically that I had gone by Roquefort .