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. This laugh and his looks alarmed her. I can’t forget about your sister. "You must not remain here," he said. She went to her bedroom, but she did not go to bed.
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