Ten minutes to twelve
Then he changed his mind . No ; it would be better to await the result of his interview . Yet still the clock dragged on , and still he waited for the magic hour . Ten minutes to twelve -- five -- then twelve precisely -- but by this time he was closeted inside Mr. Guthrie 's private office . Peter also found the hours dragging . What could it all mean ? he kept asking himself as he handed back the books through his window , his eyes wandering up to the old-fashioned clock .