He moved to one side, bowing and gesturing to the door. Tears flowed in rivulets down 121 her cheeks and she began to cry. I never have known you. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. 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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