"Fancy you, Valentia, a minion of the moon, rising before dawn! Let me look at you. You fill me with wonder and joy."
"Did you mind getting up very much, Harry?"
"It was rather hard. Listen!... That's a thrush, making a scene with another thrush in the tree."
"Is it? How do you know?"
"Of course it is! How do you know things? How did you know exactly what to wear, Val? I knew you had clothes for every possible occasion; but still, to choose the exact right dress to put on to meet your cousin at dawn in the orchard seems—well, rather extraordinary. Pinkish blue—or is it bluish pink?—to match the sky. How jolly! It fastens in front."
"Well, of course I couldn't expect Ogburn to get up in the middle of the night."
"And no hatpins for once, thank goodness."
"Well, if we sat up till now I shouldn't be wearing a hat, should I?"
"Don't argue. It's too early."
"It isn't really early. It's very late."