“I’m going for a long tramp, auntie,” she said. Why? If she had put the query to herself, she could not have answered it. I am sorry to seem to disobey you, but I am. . 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. " "As you please, Sir,—provided you don't let him off.
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