noon
` Indeed I had ; and talked with her moreover . Marcian , how can I describe her to you ? The words which suffice for common beauty sound meaningless when I would use them to depict Veranilda . Shall I tell you that she has hair of the purest gold , eyes brighter than the sky at noon , lips like the flower of the pomegranate , a cheek so fair , so soft -- nay , you may well laugh at these idle phrases -- ' ` Not your phrases , ' said Marcian , ` but your voice as it utters them sets me smiling . Talk on . The chaste goddess who beams above us inspire you with worthy terms ! ' ` There you speak to the point , ' pursued Basil ardently .