The aunt laughed. “Yeah,” Shari nodded enthusiastically. ” She stirred gently in her chair. Surely it was a dream. ’ She set down her glass with a snap. Afraid there'll be a love-affair. Come in! Come in, 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.
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