There was something vaguely indecent in the sight, this food of the people, this elemental force, this basic energy, weltering here under the sun in all the unconscious nakedness of a sprawling, primordial Titan.
The monotony of the ranch ate into her heart hour by hour, year by year.
And with it all, when was she to see Rome, Italy, and the Bay of Naples?
It was a different prospect truly.

Magnus had given her his promise that once the ranch was well established, they two should travel.

But continually he had been obliged to put her off, now for one reason, now for another; the machine would not as yet run of itself, he must still feel his hand upon the lever; next year, perhaps, when wheat should go to ninety, or the rains were good.

She did not insist.

She obliterated herself, only allowing, from time to time, her pretty, questioning eyes to meet his.