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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 770 | 2025-06-28 03:11:24 | 121.89 | 98% |