noon
She did not say to herself that her son had gone out with his horses and his dogs ; she did not try to trick herself with the thought that perhaps he slept in his purple tent , and for that reason had not rushed out hot-foot across the desert to meet and lift her from the camel . She knew that she had only to turn and walk the few yards to the tent to have all her questions answered , but she also knew that all she wanted to do was to stand on and on and on , just as she was , with her face towards the night , and her back to the dawn of another day , and definite knowledge . She loved her other sons deeply and dearly ; she loved her little daughter ; but her first-born held equal place in her heart with the Arab his father , and her love for him was beyond words and almost too great and too holy a thing to be written about here . Tears and laughter , the moon and the stars , the mystery of the Sphinx and the desert at dawn , at noon , at night , bound them both to her heart with golden chains of a surpassing love . She had said no word of what she had suffered in all these years he had been gone from her ; she could not have told you , an ' she would , of her joy at the thought of his home-coming at last . And she lifted up her hands and cried aloud : `` He is my son ! He is my son ! ''