"Oh, Harry! I think that's real mean of you. You know perfectly that I know your step and movements so well, that I sleep just as soundly when you are moving about as when there is absolute silence. But any other person's step would waken me at once."
"You're right there. I do not believe that you heard me this morning, either."
"No, I did not. What time did you rise? I think it is not a bit fair of you to steal out of bed like that without awaking me. And then to wait down here with your watch in your hand to catch me ten seconds late! I do not like that. I have a mind to get offended."
"Hold! This is getting tragic.
'You've ungently, Brutus,
Stole from my bed . . . . . . . .
You stared upon me with ungentle looks.
. . . . . . then you scratch'd your head,
And too impatiently stamped with your foot.'
Let's change the subject. May I have another cup of coffee?"
"What an anti-climax! From high tragedy to hot coffee! How shocking!"
"Where is Constance?"
"I fancy that she is sleeping yet."
"Was she not put to bed at her usual time?"