eight o'clock in the morning
Gabriella stood in front of the station , ecstatically watching George while he struggled for a cab . In the pale beams of the early sunshine her face looked young , flushed , and expectant , as if she had just awakened from sleep , and her eyes , following her husband , were the happy eyes of a bride . She wore a new dress of blue broadcloth , passionately overtrimmed by Miss Polly Hatch ; on her head a blue velvet toque from Brandywine 's millinery department rested as lightly as a benediction ; and her hands clasped Arthur 's wedding present , a bag of alligator skin bearing her initials in gold . One blissful month ago she and George had been married , and now , on the reluctant return from a camp in the Adirondacks , they were confronting the disillusioning actuality of the New York streets at eight o'clock in the morning . While Gabriella waited , shivering a a little , for the air was sharp and her broadcloth dress was not warm , she amused herself planning a future which appeared to consist of inexhaustible happiness . And mingling with her dreams there were divine memories of the last month and of her marriage . After that one quarrel George , she told herself , had been `` simply perfect . ''