They trudged along a little hungry, because of the fruitarian refreshments, and mentally very active. It towered up high above the level of the pass, thousands of feet, still, shining, and white, and below, thousands of feet below, was a floor of little woolly clouds. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. “Miss Pellissier is nothing to me except a young lady for whom I have the most profound and respectful admiration.
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