All wild and lonely.

Isn't it glorious, Russ ?" "Lately it's been getting to me," I replied soberly.
We both gazed out over the sea of gray-green, at the undulating waves of ground in the distance.

On these rides with her I had learned to appreciate the beauty of the lonely reaches of plain.
But when I could look at her I seldom wasted time on scenery.

Looking at her now I tried to get again that impression of a difference in her.

It eluded me.
Just now with the rose in her brown cheeks, her hair flying, her eyes with grave instead of mocking light, she seemed only prettier than usual.