‘If you had met her, you’d understand. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. “Go down and rescue the rags of my reputation,” she said, smiling. Perhaps once it had desired some other human being intolerably. “The women are taking it up,” said Miss Miniver; “the women and the common people, all pressing forward, all roused.
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