five o'clock in summer
He might kiss her in dreams now , for in real life he loved her as she loved him , and some day , far off no doubt , when poor Guido was well and strong again , and Lamberti had silenced all the calumnies invented against him , then it would all surely come true indeed . But now she waited long , patiently , in the certainty that she could go back to the marble court and stand by the pillar in the morning light till she felt him coming up behind her . Yet she saw nothing , and her eyes grew weary of watching the shadows , and closed themselves , for it was afternoon , and very hot , and she was tired . She fell into a sweet sleep in her chair , and presently the refreshing breeze that springs up in Rome towards five o'clock in summer blew through the drawn blinds to fan her delicate cheek , and stir the little golden ringlets at her temples . While she slept her face grew sad by slow degrees , and on her lap her hands moved and lay with their palms turned upwards as if she were appealing piteously to some higher power for mercy and help . Shadows darkened softly under her eyes , as she lay thus , and the young lids swelled and trembled ; and she , who never shed tears waking , wept silently in her sleep . The bright drops hung by the lashes and broke , trickling down her cheeks , one by one , till they fell sideways upon her bare white neck .