Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. His hand rested heavily and cruelly upon Ruth's shoulder. ’ ‘Merci, Gérard,’ Melusine muttered under her breath, adding aloud, ‘And the major, he will also wish that you let me go to see Jacques. He wore a long coat, beautifully flowered, and a hat with a turned up brim. .
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