On the present occasion, in anticipation of Mr. “You will have some tea?” she asked. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. 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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