“There is no doubt whatever about that. “It’s glorious good!” “Suppose now—look at this long snow-slope and then that blue deep beyond —do you see that round pool of color in the ice—a thousand feet or more below? Yes? Well, think—we’ve got to go but ten steps and lie down and put our arms about each other. ‘Lawks-a-mussy! It’s Miss Mary. Manning’s handwriting, and opened his letter and read some lines before its import appeared. ” He started back as though he had been shot. They were sounding more and more like Civic every day.
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