"Did you get through with your work in the field ?" "I was just turning the water on the lucerne.

I got through shocking the wheat some time ago." "Is there a good crop! I don't know much about such things, but I want to learn." She smiled up into his ruddy face.
"The wheat is fine.

The heads are well developed.

I wouldn't be surprised if it went fifty bushels to the acre." "Fifty bushels ?" She began to squeeze the tubes of colors on to the palette.
Dorian explained; and as he talked, she seated herself, placed the canvas on the easel, and began mixing the colors.
"I thought you finished that picture yesterday," he said.
"I was not satisfied with it, and so I thought I would put in another hour on it.

The setting sun promises to be unusually fine today, and I want to put a little more of its beauty into my picture, if I can." The young man seated himself on the grass well toward the rear where he could see her at work.