midday
`` Then I 'm sure I do n't know what else you are ! '' said she , looking at him straight . Mr. Simeon sighed . Ever on Mondays he returned at midday to a house filled with steam and the dank odour of soap-suds , and to the worst of the week 's meagre meals . A hundred times he had reproached himself that he did ungratefully to let this affect him , for his wife -LRB- poor soul -RRB- had been living in it all day , whereas his morning had been spent amid books , rare prints , statuettes , soft carpets , all the delicate luxuries of Master Blanchminster 's library . Yet he could not help feeling the contrast ; and the children were always at their most fractious on Mondays , chafed by a morning in school after two days of freedom . `` Where are you going this afternoon ? ''