midnight
Is this sentimental ? When I read it to Berta , she laughed at it . `` My Music `` At thy birth were gathered voices of the sea , Murmur of the breezes in the forest tree , Songs of birds and laughter -- '' At this point an open umbrella , which hid the pillow on the farther narrow bed , gave a convulsive shiver , and a fretful voice complained : `` Will you turn off that gas and stop your nonsense ? Here it is midnight , if it 's an hour , and I have n't slept a wink , with that light blazing . I know I shall fail in the written test to-morrow , Valentine 's day or not . '' Bea stared pensively at the Topsy-like corona above the flushed face . `` I do n't believe she ever puts her hair up in curlers now , do you ?