Ennison seemed to feel already the shadow of tragedy approaching. His curiosity put itself into a question. “It’s glorious good!” “Suppose now—look at this long snow-slope and then that blue deep beyond —do you see that round pool of color in the ice—a thousand feet or more below? Yes? Well, think—we’ve got to go but ten steps and lie down and put our arms about each other. We are off for a second honeymoon. And I want you for myself—for my wife. She was surprised to find how stored her mind was with impressions and memories of him, how vividly she remembered his gestures and little things that he had said. “I had a visit from Sir John in my rooms,” she said.
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