hour before noon
She had not thought of him passionately , but her now dismal situation lent an interest to his resurrection -- a tender interest which it is impossible to exaggerate . She went back to bed , and began thinking . When did these market-gardeners , who travelled up to town so regularly at one or two in the morning , come back ? She dimly recollected seeing their empty waggons , hardly noticeable amid the ordinary day-traffic , passing down at some hour before noon . It was only April , but that morning , after breakfast , she had the window opened , and sat looking out , the feeble sun shining full upon her . She affected to sew , but her eyes never left the street . Between ten and eleven the desired waggon , now unladen , reappeared on its return journey .