midnight
Well , it 's clean young blood , my friend , and nothing else , ' answered the doctor , watching him with a slight frown of shrewdness . `` The Predikant said nothing . For days there had been a kind of gloom on him , lit by a savage satisfaction in the betterment of his wife . His manner was like a midnight , in which a veld-fire glows far off . He had grown thinner , and his face was lean and gray , while in his eyes smouldered a spark that had no relation to joy or triumph . '' ` Clean young blood , ' repeated the doctor . ` No miracles , if you please . '