There was barely room for one, let alone two, in the passage, and Melusine ended up backwards, supporting Jack as best she could as he stumbled along, grasping the rough walls on either side with both hands. Her voice was soft and singularly musical; but from time to time she uttered old-fashioned words which forced him to grope mentally. 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. Spurlock began to watch for Ruth's coming in the morning; first, with negligent interest, then with positive eagerness.
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