midday
`` _ I _ do n't smell anything . '' Emmeline sniffed again to make sure . `` Flowers , '' said she . The breeze , which had shifted several points since midday , was bearing with it a faint , faint odour : a perfume of vanilla and spice so faint as to be imperceptible to all but the most acute olfactory sense . `` Flowers ! '' said the old sailor , tapping the ashes out of his pipe against the heel of his boot . `` And where 'd you get flowers in middle of the say ?