midnight
I have described Sylvia as I met her and judged her ; and if there be any reader who has been irked by this method , who thinks of me as a crude and pushing person , disposed to meddle in the affairs of others , here is where that reader will have his satisfaction and revenge . For if ever a troublesome puppet was jerked suddenly off the stage -- if ever a long-winded orator was effectively snuffed out -- I was that puppet and that orator . I stop and think -- shall I describe how I paced up and down the pier , respectfully but emphatically watched by the secretary ? And all the melodramatic plots I conceived , the muffled oars and the midnight visits to my Sylvia ? My sense of humour forbids it . For a while now I shall take the hint and stay in the background of this story . I shall tell the experiences of Sylvia as Sylvia herself told them to me long afterwards ; saying no more about my own fate -- save that I swallowed my humiliation and took the next train to New York , a far sadder and wiser social-reformer !