twelve o'clock
Yes , his own Self was in the judgment-seat ; by his own verdict and decision he must abide . And though he ached for the sight of her , and his will seemed paralyzed -- many times already he had thought : It wo n't do ! God help me ! Then twelve o'clock had come , and she had not . Would ` The Girl on the Magpie Horse ' be all he would see of her to-day -- that unsatisfying work , so cold , and devoid of witchery ? Better have tried to paint her -- with a red flower in her hair , a pout on her lips , and her eyes fey , or languorous . Goya could have painted her !