midnight
His will became like an invalid who is fretful upon the pillows . Soon his strong resolutions , cherished and never to be parted from till out of them the deeds had blossomed , lost blood and fell upon the evil day of anemia . He had a sensation of going out . When the midnight came he could not sleep , and with it came a thought feeble but persistent : `` If she loves me it 's because I 've given her Robin . '' And in the creaking darkness , encompassed by the restlessness of the sea , again and again he repeated to himself the words -- `` it 's because I 've given her Robin . '' That was the plain truth . If he was loved , he was loved because of something he had done , not because of something that he was .