midnight
I was standing before the silver cistern , I remember , washing away with my handkerchief an invisible stain from my hand , child-fashion , a loathsome impress , when I felt his audacious arms thrown suddenly around me , and his hot , polluting kisses on my face . `` I love -- I love you ! '' he hissed in my ear , `` and sooner or later I will possess you ! '' Before I could strike him , spit upon him , strangle him with my hands -- the thief , the midnight robber , the slave of lust -- he was gone again . I heard my own wild shrieks resounding through the house , like those of some strange lunatic . I was for a time frantic with rage and shame . But no one came to my succor , except poor old Morton .