There was now no honest way of warning Taber that the net had been drawn. "He must be somewhere hereabouts," cried one of the horsemen, dismounting. 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. " "Ah! you're so very particular," sighed Mrs.
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