noon
An impatient frown drew Christopher 's brows together , and , picking up the hoe , he walked leisurely out into the field . `` Well , I ca n't stop to hear your opinion of me , '' he observed . `` You 'll have to keep it until another time , '' and breaking into a careless whistle , he strode off between the tobacco furrows on his way to bring the old mare from the pasture . A little later , alone with the broad white noon and the stillness of the meadow , his gay whistle ended abruptly on his lips and the old sullen frown contracted his heavy brows . It was in vain that he tried to laugh away the depression of the moment ; the white glare of the fields and the perfume of wild flowers blooming in hot sunshine produced in him a sensation closely akin to physical nausea -- a disgust of himself and of the life and the humanity that he had known . What was it all worth , after all ? And what of satisfaction was there to be found in the thing he sought ?