The pink flush of dawn, which one could not help seeing before, now had to be sought to be discerned at all.

What were before undefined, vague blurs in the distant countryside could now be distinctly seen.

They were sheaves of rye.

The dew, not visible till the sun was up, wetted Levin's legs and his blouse above his belt in the high growing, fragrant hemp patch, from which the pollen had already fallen out.

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