noon
he said simply . It seemed well to him . Dead , his secret would lie in the grave with him , and the long martyrdom of his life be ended . In the brightness of the noon Cigarette leaned out of her little oval casement that framed her head like an old black oak carving -- a head with the mellow bloom on its cheeks , and the flash of scarlet above its dark curls , and the robin-like grace of poise and balance as it hung out there in the sun . Cigarette had been there a whole hour in thought ; she who never had wasted a moment in meditation or reverie , and who found the long African day all too short for her busy , abundant , joyous life , that was always full of haste and work , just as a bird 's will seem so , though the bird have no more to do than to fly at its will through summer air , and feed at its will from brook and from berry , from a ripe ear of the corn or from a deep cup of the lily . For the first time she was letting time drift away in the fruitless labor of vain , purposeless thought , because , for the first time also , happiness was not with her . They were gone forever -- all the elastic joyance , all the free , fair hours , all the dauntless gayety of childhood , all the sweet , harmonious laughter of a heart without a care .