‘Of course she don’t understand,’ snapped Charvill irascibly. Wood having laid hold of the canvass-bag. But he only went home again to Paddington. They entered a hansom and turned on to the Embankment. I just never had anything else fun to do. 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. ‘Then let her keep her Frenchified titles to herself. But heavens, I must pack!” She sprang to her feet and disappeared in the room beyond, from which she emerged a few minutes later with flushed cheeks and dishevelled hair. At length, the train approached St. She entered the last room, his bedroom. .
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