‘But you do not understand, mon ami. 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. This lapse was possibly due to her apparent determination to make full protest of Hilary’s conduct.
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