Her thought spoke aloud. ’ Leaning down, she raised the hem of the petticoat of her habit to reveal a neat little pair of boots on her feet. “I murdered them, John. Mr. " At this juncture, the door opened, and Thames entered the room. 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 Jack was too well versed in the geography of the place to attempt either of them.
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