midday
The rest of the page was resolved into a filmy floating substance , no more tangible than the ashy skeleton on which writing still lives when the paper itself has been eaten by flame , and the flame swallowed by the air . Araminta -- this was all her eyes saw , that familiar name in the flaring handwriting of the Genius of Life , who had scrawled her destiny in that one word . Slowly the monstrous ciphers faded from the grey hemisphere of space , and she saw again the newspaper in her trembling fingers , the kitchen into which the sunlight streamed from the open window , the dog Biribi basking in the doorway . That living quiet which descends upon a house when the midday meal and work are done came suddenly home to her , in contrast to the turmoil in her mind and being . So that was why Philip had not written to her ! While her heart was daily growing more bitter against him , he had been fighting his vessel against great odds , and at last had been shipwrecked and carried off a prisoner . A strange new understanding took possession of her .