noon
He must have thought so . And that first day -- when we were coming up the mountain-side -- '' She stopped . She was seized ; she was held fast in the grip of a memory so intense , so poignant , that she made , she could make , no effort to release herself . She heard the drowsy wail of the Ceramella dropping down the mountain-side in the radiant heat of noon . She felt Maurice 's warm hand . She remembered her words about the woman 's need to love -- `` I wanted , I needed to love -- do men ever feel that ? Women do often , nearly always , I think . ''