Many’s the young ’un I’ve seen get hisself into just such a knuckleheaded mess all on account of a pretty wench. 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. ” She had not, she reflected, remembered how prominent his eyes were. “My God!” and ceased to move.
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