the summer midnight
and for what ? '' He turned from the memory as from sight of some disgustful deformity or disease . Going to the mirror he studied his face for some reflection of the soul ; but unable to master his feelings , in which there was at once loathing and despair , he threw open the window and walked out of the suffocating room into the sultry balcony . It was hardly night ; the transparent obscurity of the summer midnight was dissolving ; the slight film of darkness which had wrapped the world was evanescent . `` Is it day or night ? '' he asked . `` Oh , it is day !