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“Think of the mockery!” she said. “Ungracious little beast, I call her. 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. ” “How delightful!” exclaimed Anna. “I’ll go,” he said, “but I warn you that I shall find you out.
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