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. I have sinned deeply; but I have been sorely tried. I suppose it is the mirrors and decorations. "I knew that would bring him to," thought Wild. ‘And if it is true that you love me, I do not know why it is that you do not kiss me again at once.
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