noon
She had spoken in a lower voice , but too late . Moreover , even if Florent 's sister could have heard those words , they would not have sufficed to heal the wound which the first ones had made in the most sensitive part of her ` amour propre ' ! `` And I hesitated , '' said she to herself , `` I thought of sparing her ! '' The following morning , toward noon , she found herself at the atelier , seated beside Madame Steno , while Lincoln gave to the portrait the last touches , and while Alba posed in the large armchair , absent and pale as usual . Florent Chapron , after having assisted at part of the sitting , left the room , leaning upon the crutch , which he still used . His withdrawal seemed so propitious to Lydia that she resolved immediately not to allow such an opportunity to escape , and as if fatality interfered to render her work of infamy more easy , Madame Steno aided her by suddenly interrupting the work of the painter who , after hard working without speaking for half an hour , paused to wipe his forehead , on which were large drops of perspiration , so great was his excitement . `` Come , my little Linco , '' said she , with the affectionate solicitude of an old mistress , `` you must rest .