"It will not be fair till the moon rises," pronounced Mademoiselle Moore, "consequently I feel assured that my brother will not return till then. Indeed I should be sorry if he did. We will have coffee. It would be vain to wait for him."
"I am tired. May I leave my work now, cousin?"
"You may, since it grows too dark to see to do it well. Fold it up; put it carefully in your bag; then step into the kitchen and desire Sarah to bring in the goter, or tea, as you call it."
"But it has not yet struck six. He may still come."

"It will not be fine till the moon rises," pronounced Mlle Moore, "and I am sure that my brother will not return till then. We will have coffee. It would be vain to wait for him."
"I am tired. May I leave my work now, cousin?"
"You may, since it grows too dark to do it well. Fold it up; put it away carefully; then step into the kitchen and desire Sarah to bring in the tray."
"But it has not yet struck six. He may still come."
