She had never before heard the noise of firecrackers, and in the beginning the sputtering racket caused her to wince. “Oh! I wish,” she said, “that people thought alike about these things. All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them. I forget. Voilà tout, as Melusine herself would say. Enjoy. 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. A glance down the passage—to see that Roding was not lurking?—and her face came back to Gerald, triumph in her eyes. He upset some one —probably Mr. Only her ungloved fingers, and the arms in their long tight sleeves as she held the heavy gun aloft, bore any sign of stiffness.
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