midnight
Whatever Dr. Claudius might say of himself , he certainly did not look old . And yet he said to himself that he was , and he probably knew . He said to himself , as he had said every day for many long months , that this was the secret of the difference he felt between his life and the life of his companions -- such companions as he had , between his thoughts and their thoughts , between his ways and their ways . Of late the fancy had gained a stronger hold on his imagination , excited by solitude and an undue consumption of the midnight oil , and as he turned his face to the evening light , an observer , had there been one , might have felt half inclined to agree with him . His face was pale , and the high aquiline nose looked drawn . Moreover , the tangled hair and beard contrasted strangely with his broad , spotless collar , and his dressing-gown of sober black . The long habit of neatness in dress survived any small vanity of personal looks .