midnight
She 's a peach , ai n't she ? Would n't I like to win her , though . ' And all that sort of talk . '' And Saxon , her cheek pressed to his , knew that she was paid in full for all her midnight sewings and the torturing hours of drowsy stitching when her head nodded with the weariness of the day 's toil , while she recreated for herself filched ideas from the dainty garments that had steamed under her passing iron . `` Say , Saxon , I got a new name for you . You 're my Tonic Kid . That 's what you are , the Tonic Kid . ''