midnight
Both gazed out of the windows with rapt faces . The hours flew as long as it was daylight , and after that there was the excitement of getting nearer , getting quite near , getting there . At Genoa it had begun to rain -- Genoa ! Imagine actually being at Genoa , seeing its name written up in the station just like any other name -- at Nervi it was pouring , and when at last towards midnight , for again the train was late , they got to Mezzago , the rain was coming down in what seemed solid sheets . But it was Italy . Nothing it did could be bad . The very rain was different -- straight rain , falling properly on to one 's umbrella ; not that violently blowing English stuff that got in everywhere .