“Couldn’t we three go out and have some coffee somewhere? The thought of that drawing-room paralyses me. ’ ‘What, even less delightful than Gerald?’ enquired Lucilla, her eyes dancing. I have just come from him. She had pushed aside her azure veil, taken off her snow-glasses, and sat smiling under her hand at the shining glories—the lit cornices, the blue shadows, the softly rounded, enormous snow masses, the deep places full of quivering luminosity—of the Taschhorn and Dom. She orgasmed quickly, then was thrilled to feel it happen again twice more as he slowed his pace. It was rude and disrespectful to raise her eyes to him, her mother had warned.
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