midnight
he exclaimed aloud in the empty street , all of his boyish loyalty and devotion to the woman who had put out a hand to him in his hour of trouble aroused and burning in him . He wished that he might meet another man and could hit him also a swinging blow on the nose as he had hit the amazed shoemaker . He went to his own house and , leaning on the gate , stood looking at it and swearing meaninglessly . Then , turning , he went again through the deserted streets past the railroad station where , the midnight train having come and gone and Jerry Donlin having gone home for the night , all was dark and quiet . He was filled with horror of what Mary Underwood had seen at Jane McPherson 's funeral . `` It is better to be utterly bad than to speak ill of another , '' he thought . For the first time he realised another side of village life .