midnight
If you were her soul , my dear , my brother Richard would have a quieter life . Go on . '' `` Hardly a week has passed since last I wrote , yet to-night I fly again in spirit to you , since my burning heart must pour itself out to some other heart that can beat with mine . It is midnight . All day I have suffered , and now I fain would lose myself in sleep . But no ! My eyes are propped open , my heart throbs to suffocation , I enrage , I tear myself -- how should sleep come to such as I ?