The day was very hot.

It was a frightfully hot day.

In two weeks it’ll be the longest day in the year.

I always watch for the longest day in the year and then miss it.

Do you always watch for the longest day of the year and then miss it?

It was lonely for a day or so until one morning some man, more recently arrived than I, stopped me on the road.

We went to work on the trench and in the morning the sun came up and the day was hot and muggy and cheerful and quiet.

I told her how I had stopped off in Chicago for a day on my way East, and how a dozen people had sent their love through me.

One day she found that she liked it the way the hair was black on his arms and how white they were above the tanned line when he washed up in the washbasin outside the house.

She was sorry, and she knew he would probably not be able to understand, but might some day forgive her, and be grateful to her, and she expected, absolutely unexpectedly, to be married in the spring.

To her son these words conveyed an extraordinary joy, as if it were settled the expedition were bound to take place, and the wonder to which he had looked forward, for years and years it seemed, was, after a night’s darkness and a day’s sail, within touch.