midday
To that I might add also my own romantic conception ; if Trenchard never saw her clearly because he loved her , I never saw her clearly because -- because -- why , I do not know ... . She was , from first to last , a figure of romance , irritating , aggressive , enchanting , baffling , always blinding , to all of us . During the morning after our arrival in M -- Trenchard worked in the theatre , bandaging and helping with the transport of the wounded up the high and difficult staircase . Then at midday , tired with the heat , the closeness of the place , he escaped into the little park that bordered the farther side of the road . It was a burning day in June -- the sun came beating through the trees , and as soon as he had turned the corner of the path and had lost the line of ruined and blackened houses to his right he found himself in the wildest and most glittering of little orchards . The grass grew here to a great height -- the apple-trees were of a fine age , and the sun in squares and circles and stars of light flashed like fire through the thick green . He stepped forward , blinded by the quivering gold , and walked into the arms of Marie Ivanovna .