" "I feel I have, dear Winny!" replied Thames, abashed at his own rudeness; "my conduct is inexcusable. 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. Jackson!" "So he would," replied the latter: "so he would. In truth, she had been quite glad to lose the argument about remaining while the bullet was dug out of Jack’s side. My poor Hoddy! I had to talk harshly, or break down and have hysterics.
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