Instead, she laughed, laughed with lips and eyes, laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks. Wood, meantime, had not remained idle. "Don't alarm yourself. 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. The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate.
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