[Nancy by Rhoda Broughton]@TWC D-Link book
Nancy

CHAPTER XVII
4/7

I walk on.

We reach the meadow.

Well, at least _to-day_ we are in time.

It has the silence and solitude of the dawn of Creation's first still day, broken only by the sheep that are cropping "The slant grass, and daisies pale." The slow, smooth river washes by, sucking in among the rushes.

Our footsteps show plainly shaped as we step along through the hoary dew.


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