noon
`` Yes -- perhaps -- I do n't know ; '' and , so saying , she left me . Two months crept over -- and how slowly they went ! -- without my again seeing the Señhora . Were it not that the bouquets which each morning I fastened to the window-bars were removed before noon , I could have fancied that she had no other existence than what my dreamy imagination gave her . The heavy wooden `` jalousies '' were never opened ; the door remained close locked ; not a foot-tread marked the gravel near it . It was clear to me she had never crossed the threshold since the night I first saw her . I fell into a plodding , melancholy mood .