about noon
He wondered whether he should feel the same thing when Paolo was dead . Again he looked behind him , and the idea that he was not alone gained force . Nevertheless the room was bright , brighter indeed in the afternoon than it ever was in the morning , for the window was towards the south , and though the first rays of the sun reached it at about eleven in the morning , the buildings afterwards darkened it again until the sun was in the west . Moreover to-day , the weather had been changeable , and it had rained a little about noon . Now the air was again clear , and the workshop was lit up so that the light penetrated even to the ancient cobwebs in the corners , and touched the wax models and casts on the shelves , and gilded the old wood of the door opposite with rich brown gold . Marzio had a curtain of dusty grey linen which he drew across the lower part of the window to keep the sunshine off his work . He was impatient with himself , and annoyed by the persistency of the impression that Paolo was in some way present in the place .