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It was Sunday. I never get up early on Sundays. I sometimes stay in bed untile lunchtime. Last Sunday I got up very late. I looked out of the window. It was dark outside. "What a day!" I thought. ‘It's raining again. ’ Just then, the telephone rang. It was my aunt Lucy. ‘I've just arrived by train, ’ she said. ‘I'm coming to see you. ’
‘But I'm still having breakfast, ’ I said.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked.
‘I'm having breakfast, ’ I repeated.
‘Dear me, ’ she said. ‘Do you always get up so late? It's one o'clock!’
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