“I’ll turn you here. ‘What do you mean to do with her?’ ‘Just keep her talking, that’s all,’ Gerald said quickly. ‘Don’t try to turn it off,’ ordered Miss Froxfield. 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. But, by Jove! it’s going to make our loving a fiercely abstract thing. Diving towards it, he tried to press against the rivulet that was seeping from it, hampered mightily by Melusine’s fingers, which were grasping at his other hand. He was a man who in all things classified without nuance, and for him there were in the matter of age just two feminine classes and no more—girls and women. I wanted the magic of love.
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