midnight
hala o he ! _ '' Van Dorn lisped , sweetly , chucking the hostess under the chin ; `` but I do love to see thee so , thou charmer of my life . Never will I desert thee , Patty , whilst thou can suffer . '' Her dark clouds slowly passed away as Levin turned from the place , but her small head and abundant raven hair showed the blood troubled to the roots , and the eyes , once rich with midnight depths , now glazing in the course of time , like old window panes , by age , searched the bandit 's face with a strange fear : `` Van Dorn , time and pleasure can not kill you : how well you look to-day . I think you are a boy , to be ruined again every time you love me , you blush so modestly . Where is that pot of color you paint your cheeks with even before _ me _ , whose blushes none can recollect ? Why do you love me ? '' ''