Mrs. 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. A neighbor stopped by as the day wore on, causing her to duck and cower as he rang the doorbell over and over. "One-and-twenty, ah!" repeated Gay. The idea of anything criminal never entered her thoughts. The turning of the key startled her, but she did not see how she could make an objection. But it is that I have a very bad temper, you understand. He wore a French military undress of the period, with high jack-boots, and a laced hat; and, though his attire indicated no particular rank, he had completely the air of a person of distinction.
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