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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 35285 | 2025-02-09 12:53:24 | 97.63 | 97.6% |
| 35227 | 2025-02-08 12:09:41 | 100.74 | 97.6% |