” Lucy would always press her face into her mother’s skirts when she heard the ending, no matter how many times she heard it. Herein was the sum of human knowledge in essence. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. She approached this field with her usual liveliness of apprehension. Some part of the stiff vigour of the man seemed to have subsided.
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