Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. Then I tucked it nice and snug under the saddle-bag. I am grateful, indeed I am. “It isn’t fair. ” He relapsed into a stony silence.
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