noon
The moon , in its first quarter , shone out above a distant steeple where the eastern sky , already blue and opalesque , promised the dawn of another day in reparation for the one then dying in scarlet splendour . But to those who are unhappy , to-morrow is a word without significance . Sara stretched out her arms instinctively toward the coming night . She wanted darkness and she wanted sleep -- not the stars of the morning , not the joy of noon . What should she do ? Her mad love for Orange had reached a desperate point -- a point where she realised all too clearly and with bitterness , that , so far from being a source of strength , it was a curse , a malady , a humiliation -- driving her into that insatiable desire of solitude where the companionship of dreadful imaginations and gloomy thoughts can rend the soul at their pleasure . As men are sometimes lured toward dangerous perils on land , or mountains , or by sea , and from thence to deeds , discoveries , and crimes unforeseen and unpremeditated , so she seemed borne along into a whirlpool of feelings which chilled the better impulses of her nature and accentuated , with acid and fire , every elementary instinct .