ten o'clock in the
morning
The proof of that , Veronica argued to herself , was that both of them knew that it was nothing of the sort , a manner of begging the question familiar to those who wish to do as they please without hindrance from within or without . The roads were good , for it was the month of May . In winter , even Veronica 's strong horses could hardly have dragged the light carriage to its destination in one day . It was but little after ten o'clock in the morning when Veronica got out upon the platform of the railway station at Eboli ; it was sunset , and the full moon was rising , when her carriage stopped at the entrance of the mountain town . It had been a very long day , and she had seen much that was quite new to her , and different from what she had expected . At first , indeed , she was amazed at the richness of the country beyond Eboli , as she was driven for nearly an hour through what was literally a forest of ancient olive trees , interrupted only here and there by a broad field of vines , cut low and trained upon short stakes ; and from the rising ground beyond Carpella , where the road winds up the first hill , she looked back and saw the shimmering grey-green light of the olive leaves , lying like a delicate mantle over the flat country and in the great hollow , from Eboli to the deep gorge wherein the ancient city of Campania lies as in a nest . A part of the olive land was hers ; and as she drove along , the midday breeze blew some of the tiny , star-like olive blossoms into her lap .