True, it was small and unpainted and in bad repair, but its smallness and its brownness seemed not out of keeping with the mountain-side.

Its narrow veranda was railed by unbarked branches from the cedars.

Its walls were rough and weather-beaten, its few windows, broad and low.

The door was open and led directly into the living room whence his hostess had preceded him.
The marvellous scent of the morning was everywhere.

The room, as he went in, seemed full of it.