" He shifted the pages together, rolled and thrust them under her arm. “Well, you certainly did very well at tea,” she remarked. "You've given me more than the amount, Sir Rowland," he said, after he had twice counted them, "or I've missed my reckoning. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse.
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