The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. “My dear,” she added, by way of afterthought, “you DO obliterate things!” Part 8 They found themselves next day talking love to one another high up on some rocks above a steep bank of snow that overhung a precipice on the eastern side of the Fee glacier. ‘Jacques?’ she called out, forgetting the need for silence. ’ ‘No, no,’ the other lady assured her with a twinkle. “Why don’t you wear your white blouse more often? It is the prettiest shirt you own.
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