I'll have to put some pep into the game— American pep. 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. Gosse! Dieu du ciel, but how did he get into the convent? She had perforce to obey his command, for speech was impossible.
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