The sky grew momentarily more brilliant, the sun sank lower, and at last the light came almost level, painting the flat meadows as with a brush dropping emeralds, and throwing from each tiny inequality, and each blade of grass, a separate shade of its own.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 15583 | 2025-06-11 12:31:52 | 82.29 | 97% |