It was five minutes before midnight.
As though by common consent, they both crossed to the window and stood looking out into the darkness.

A slight wind was moving amongst the treetops, the night was clear but moonless.

About half a mile away they could just discern a corner of the club-house.

They stood watching it in silence.

At five minutes past twelve, Granet shut his watch with a click.
"Not to-night, then," he whispered.