"No, no, let him alone," interposed Wood. ” She stepped into the curtains as Martin stared daggers. Thames did not attempt to offer him any consolation, for he was almost as much dejected. 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.
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