noon
Of late the study of Newman had been a revelation to him . But he did not cease for that to read the books of scientific psychology which tortured him -- the books which seemed to make of mind a function of matter , and man the slave of an immoral nature . The only persistent and original gift in him -- yet after all it is the gift which for ever divides the sheep from the goats -- was that of a ` hunger and thirst after righteousness . ' It was towards noon on a November day , and Dora Lomax sat working at her embroidery frame in the little sitting-room overlooking Market Place . The pale wintry sun touched her bent head , her deftly moving hand , and that device of the risen Christ circled in golden flame on which she was at work . The room in which she sat was old and low ; the ceiling bulged here and there , the floor had unexpected slopes and declivities . The furniture was of the cheapest , the commonest odds and ends of a broker 's shop , for the most part .