midnight
she roused herself : `` It was my fault . I wo n't let you blame yourself ; it was all my fault ! '' she said ; then sank again into dreaming quiet . It was midnight ; the fire had died down ; a stick of drift-wood on the iron dogs , gnawed through by shimmering blue and copper flames , broke apart , and a shower of sparks flew up , caught in the soot , and smoldered in spreading rosettes on the chimney-back . The night , pressing black against the windows , was full of the murmurous silence of the rain and the soft advancing crash of the incoming tide ; the man and woman were silent , too . Sometimes he would kiss the little scar on her wrist ; sometimes press his lips into the soft cup of her palm ; there seemed no need of words . It was in one of these silences that David suddenly raised his head and frowned .