midnight
There was scarce a ripple on the lake . A faint breath of an offshore breeze fanned her , drifting the canoe at a snail 's pace out from land . Stella luxuriated in the quiet afternoon . A party of campers cruising the lake had tarried at the bungalow till after midnight . Jack Fyfe had risen at dawn to depart for some distant logging point . Stella , once wakened , had risen and breakfasted with him . She was tired , drowsy , content to lie there in pure physical relaxation .