" "I thought as much," sneered Mrs. “It’s glorious good!” “Suppose now—look at this long snow-slope and then that blue deep beyond —do you see that round pool of color in the ice—a thousand feet or more below? Yes? Well, think—we’ve got to go but ten steps and lie down and put our arms about each other. It was the beginning of June. I have healed and I am still your wife!\" She looked at him desperately, his eyes illuminated by firelight. The latter took from his pocket a small note-book and pencil. There is everywhere at night in China the original fear of darkness. For all that, it is folly.
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