"Did you see the lights on at Mrs. Maple's house last night?" "I did. It was well past midnight, wasn't it?" "Yes, quite unusual for her. Do you suppose she's taken up late-night baking?" "Perhaps, though it seems unlikely. Her oven's been on the fritz for weeks." "Well, it's none of our business, I suppose. But if she's started sleepwalking, we should keep an eye out for her safety." "That's true. We could ask her about it when she comes by for her daily scone." "Indeed. And what a lovely morning it is for a scone! The sun is shining, the birds are singing..." "And yet, there's an undeniable chill in the air. Do you feel it too?" "I do. It's as if there's something ominous lurking beneath the surface of our charming little town." "I can't help but wonder if it's connected to Mrs. Maple's late-night activities." "Perhaps we should investigate further. After all, it's not every day that our quiet lives are disrupted by such intrigue."