Why was the writer's aunt surprised?
It was Sunday.
I never get up early on Sundays.
I sometimes stay in bed until 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!'