noon
There were the rounded paths of hard sand , the colour of pinkish gold in the dappling shadows of date palms and magnolias , and there were rills of running water that whispered and gurgled as they bathed the dark roots of the trees . No grass grew in the garden , and the flowers were not planted in beds or borders . Plants and trees sprang out of the sand , and such flowers as there were -- roses , and pomegranate blossoms , hibiscus , and passion flowers -- climbed , and rambled , and pushed , and hung in heavy drapery , as best they could without attention or guidance . But one of the principal paths led to a kind of arbour , or temple , where long ago palms had been planted in a ring , and had formed a high green dome , through which , even at noon , the light filtered as if through a dome of emerald . Underneath , the pavement of gold was hard and smooth , and in the centre whispered a tiny fountain ornamented with old Algerian tiles . It trickled rather than played , but its delicate music was soothing and sweet as a murmured lullaby ; and from the shaded seat beside it there was a glimpse between tree trunks of the burning desert gold . On this wooden seat by the fountain Stephen waited for Victoria , and saw her coming to him , along the straight path that led to the round point .