eight o'clock
Presently she sprang from her bed and drew back the curtains of the windows , gazing rapturously into the crystal day . The verdure of the Park was freshened to an incredible brilliancy by the dew , a thin white veil of mist was spread over the mirror of the waters , the trees flung long shadows across the turf . A few minutes later she was out , thrilled by the silence , drawing in deep , breaths of the morning air ; lingering by still lakes catching the blue of the sky -- a blue that left its stain upon the soul ; as the sun mounted she wandered farther , losing herself in the wilderness of the forest . At eight o'clock , when she returned , there were signs that the city had awakened . A mounted policeman trotted past her as she crossed a gravel drive , and on the tree-flecked stretches , which lately had been empty as Eden , human figures were scattered . A child , with a sailboat that languished for lack of wind , stared at her , first with fascination and wonder in his eyes , and then smiled at her tentatively . She returned the smile with a start .