midnight
He knew that they were lying ; they must be ; it was n't possible that any woman would go through that and live . All this Ransome thought as he sat in the front parlor under the little creaking room . He _ would _ sit there where he could hear every sound , where it was almost as if he was by her bed and looking on . And he would n't believe it was all over when at midnight they came and told him , and when he saw Violet lying in her mortal apathy , and when he kissed her poor drawn face . He could n't believe that Violet 's face would n't look like that forever , that it would n't keep forever its dreadful memory , the resentment that smoldered still under its white apathy . * * * * * For there could be no doubt that that was Violet 's attitude -- resentment , as of some wrong that had been done her . He did n't wonder at it .