He gazed out upon a sweet blue sky, unfretted by any cloud.

His eye crossed a sea of faintly waving grasses.

The liquid call of a mile-high mysterious plover came to him.
In the line of vision from the tent door there could be seen no token of a human neighbourhood, nor could there be heard any sound of human life.

The canvas house stood alone and apart.

Battersleigh gazed out of the door as he folded his letter.