noon
So she liked to pass through Lion Street in her walks , for it led her by his house . She might easily meet him again there , and she longed to see his face once more before the departure for Spain , which would remove him from her sight forever . And behold ! One sunny noon he was borne toward her in a litter . She stopped as though spellbound , bowing profoundly ; her glance as he passed met his , and he waved his emaciated hand -- yes , she was not mistaken -- he waved it to her . For an instant it seemed as if a crimson rose had bloomed in the midst of winter snows . She had been as sure that he had not forgotten her as that she herself had not ceased to think of him .