midnight
`` This Frenchman here has just been telling his wife that she 's the loveliest woman on the Riviera today . Come on ! '' Durkin stood indifferently , under the white glare of the electric lamp , watching the younger man push through to the centre of the roadway . The slowly-moving touring-car , hemmed in by the languid midnight movement of the street , came to a full stop almost before where he stood . It shuddered and panted there , leviathan-like , and Durkin saw the sea breeze sway back the canopy drapery . He followed the direction of the excited young Chicagoan 's gaze , smilingly , now , and with a singularly disengaged mind . He saw the woman 's clear profile outlined against the floating purple curtain , the quiet and shadowy eyes of violet , the glint of the chestnut hair that showed through the back-thrust folds of the white silk automobile veil swathing the small head , and the nervous , bird-like movement of the head itself .