midnight
He was trying to write himself back into fame . His greatest moment had come years before when his golden pen had glorified a generation of madcaps . For one deathless moment his genius had carried him to the heights , and a white blaze of publicity had given him a halo of glory . Later had come lean and bitter years until finally his reputation dwindled like a gutted candle in a wintry room at midnight . He could still write but now fear and remorse walked with him and would give him no peace . He was cruelly afraid most of the time . Moonson listened to the writer 's thoughts in heart-stricken silence -- thoughts so tragic they seemed out of keeping with the natural and beautiful rhythms of his speech .