noon
`` I did wrong to smile , '' answered Kenyon . `` It is not for me to limit Providence in its operations on man 's spirit . '' While they stood talking , the clock in the neighboring cathedral told the hour , with twelve reverberating strokes , which it flung down upon the crowded market place , as if warning one and all to take advantage of the bronze pontiff 's benediction , or of Heaven 's blessing , however proffered , before the opportunity were lost . `` High noon , '' said the sculptor . `` It is Miriam 's hour ! '' When the last of the twelve strokes had fallen from the cathedral clock , Kenyon threw his eyes over the busy scene of the market place , expecting to discern Miriam somewhere in the ` crowd . He looked next towards the cathedral itself , where it was reasonable to imagine that she might have taken shelter , while awaiting her appointed time .