midnight
`` The house of the alcalde , Don Luis Zamora , he says , has a _ patio _ , of course -- a kind of inner courtyard opening from the street . In an angle of it is his daughter 's window -- as dark a place as you could find . And what do you think he wants me to do ? Why , knowing my freedom , charm , and skilfulness of tongue , he proposes that I go into the _ patio _ at midnight , when the hobgoblin face of me can not be seen , and make love to her for him -- for the pretty man that she has seen on the plaza , thinking him to be Don Judson Tate . `` Why should n't I do it for him -- for my friend , Fergus McMahan ? For him to ask me was a compliment -- an acknowledgment of his own shortcomings . '' ` You little , lily white , fine-haired , highly polished piece of dumb sculpture , ' says I , ` I 'll help you .