A good thirty yards separated the two, and the yellowing turf of long meadow grass was interspersed here and there with clumps of goldenrod and asters and wild shrubs and with small second-growth trees.

At the side of the doorway was the tree which they had collided with, a twenty-foot white birch.

The hut was even more dilapidated than they had supposed.

It looked as if a good wind would send its twisted, sun-split grey boards into a heap.

Inside, however, with the sunlight streaming through doorway, window and cracks, it looked more inviting than it had at night.