I’m sure I’d no idea it was so late.
Why, I was riding in the Park at eight
And looked for you. I own I felt abused;
Last night you said——
Sibyl— I beg to be excused
From keeping foolish promises, when made
At two A.M., by moonlight. I’m afraid
My memory’s no better than a sieve.
So you expected me? The Lord forgive
Your trusting soul!