morning, noon
She was still silent , rather pale and very thoughtful , and she seemed to breathe more quickly than usual . `` Of course , '' I continued , `` you may say that it was my own look-out , that I had only to keep my own counsel , and no one would be any the worse . But there 's the mischief of it . How can a man who is thinking of a woman morning , noon and night ; whose heart leaps at the sound of her coming , whose existence is a blank when she is away from him -- a blank which he tries to fill by recalling , again and again , all that she has said and the tones of her voice , and the look that was in her eyes when she spoke -- how can he help letting her see , sooner or later , that he cares for her ? And if he does , when he has no right to , there is an end of duty and chivalry and even common honesty . '' `` Yes , I understand now , '' said Juliet softly . `` Is this the way ? ''