"Have you said good morning to your father ?" "Yes, grandma." They settled themselves on the bench opposite Stanley and Beryl.
"Good morning, Stanley!" Old Mrs.Fairfield gave him his plate.
"Morning, mother! How's the boy ?" "Splendid! He only woke up once last night.

What a perfect morning!" The old woman paused, her hand on the loaf of bread, to gaze out of the open door into the garden.

The sea sounded.

Through the wide-open window streamed the sun on to the yellow varnished walls and bare floor.
Everything on the table flashed and glittered.

In the middle there was an old salad bowl filled with yellow and red nasturtiums.