I love to see the shadows blow over the wheat." Lenore became aware, as she passed the car, that Nash was glaring at her in no unmistakable manner.

She had forgotten all about him.

The sight of his jealous face somehow added to her strange exhilaration.
They crossed the road from the house, and, facing the west, had free prospect of the miles of billowy hills and the magnificent ordnance of the storm-clouds.

The deep, low mutterings of thunder seemed a grand and welcome music.

Lenore stole a look at Dorn, to see him, bareheaded, face upturned, entranced.