A large brown disk paused rayless on the western hills.
'A Dacier ought to feel at home in Normandy; and you may have sprung from this neighbourhood,' said she, simply to chat.

'Here the land is poorish, and a mile inland rich enough to bear repeated crops of colza, which tries the soil, I hear.

As for beauty, those blue hills you see, enfold charming valleys.

I meditate an expedition to Harcourt before I return.

An English professor of his native tongue at the Lycee at Caen told me on my way here that for twenty shillings a week you may live in royal ease round about Harcourt.