Do you know how late it is?” She nodded. 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. The lad had just barely jangled it, when hurrying footsteps could be heard inside.
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