"With pleasure, Sir," replied Edgeworth Bess. ” “Yes,” said his prospective fellow-sailor, “that’s very pretty. 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. She gave up as he finished, spending himself in her mouth. By degrees, his fears vanished, and hearing nothing, he grew calmer.
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