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. “It is positively no use, Anna,” she declared, appealingly. His thoughts, indeed, were too painful for utterance, and so acute were his feelings, that, for some time, they quite overcame him. “Cheer up, Annabel. Good heavens! She was discussing love-making. On examining the door, he found it secured by a large rusty lock, which he endeavoured to pick with the nail he had just acquired; but all his efforts proving ineffectual, he removed the plate that covered it with the bar, and with his fingers contrived to draw back the bolt.
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