“John,” she said, “I can spare you that question. “Anyway, enough about that. ‘I know what it means, numbskull! Didn’t spend years in the confounded country without picking up some of their infernal tongue. To-night all this may seem hard and cruel. 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. Winifred screamed.
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