He glanced at her often, and drank in all the pleasure of her beauty.

He even noticed the simplicity of the cotton gown and leather belt, and the hat that was trimmed only with dried everlasting flowers, such as grew in every field.

As she talked his cane struck sometimes a sharp passionate blow among plumes of golden-rod that grew by their path, and snapped many a one.
The roadside grass was ragged.

The wild plum shrubs by the fences were bronzed by September.

In the fields the stubble was yellow and brown.
The scattered white houses were all agleam in the clear, cool sunshine.
As he listened, Alec Trenholme's feeling was not now wrought upon at all by what he was hearing of the girl who had stumbled in and out of his life in ghostly fashion.