“You decline to help us in any way, then,” he said. ’ ‘That is not your affair. She took refuge in beating her pillow and inventing insulting epithets for herself. And, as he was about to put himself into a posture of defence, his mother clasped him in her arms. He continued thoughtfully. 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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