If you knew anything about Canton ware, you were, as like as not, sorely tempted to stuff a teacup into your pocket. 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. On one side of the chapel there was a large grated window, but, as it looked upon the interior of the jail, Jack preferred following the course he had originally decided upon to making any attempt in this quarter. “I mean it. ” She glanced into his blue eyes wearily. ‘Come, mademoiselle.
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