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496 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1914
Out in the garden, for instance, down there beyond the lime trees at the end, where you could stand in the gap in the lilac hedge and look straight out across the rye-fields, the immense unending rye-fields, dipping and rising, delicate grey, delicate green, shining in sunlight, dark beneath the cloud, restlessly waving, on and on, till over away at the end of things they got to the sky and were only stopped by brushing up against it,—out there with one's hand shading one's eyes from the too great brightness, who could find fault with anything, who could do anything but look and see that it was all very good?