\"Yep. ” “Perhaps I don’t. She was watching him intently. Gold-handled, too. Wood could stand it no longer. She remembered that she had not gone to bed until two o'clock in the morning. Part 7 As they came back from that day’s climb—it was up the Mittaghorn—they had to cross a shining space of wet, steep rocks between two grass slopes that needed a little care. She felt a lump rise in her throat, for she had come to love living in America. ‘Sapristi,’ he shouted angrily. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child.
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