"Whatever you say—you, behind those stars there, if you are a God. ’ ‘I could have done so at the first and saved you the pain,’ she told him merrily. He encouraged her to join him in his debauchery. 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. ‘Ah, non,’ exclaimed the husband. Good-bye, aunt.
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