He put them back in the tail-pocket and pinned them with great care.

Then he sat down behind Richard's coat-tails and kept his eyes fixed on them, while Richard, sitting at his writing-table, did not stir.
"A little patience, Richard," said Moncharmin.

"We have only a few minutes to wait ...

The clock will soon strike twelve.

Last time, we left at the last stroke of twelve." "Oh, I shall have all the patience necessary!" The time passed, slow, heavy, mysterious, stifling.