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. When you've admitted him, steal into the room, hide yourself, and don't move till I utter the words, 'You've a long journey before you. Jests are not for seasons like this. It seemed to him that a sort of mist had risen up between them.
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