‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. “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. “If you say so, Lucy. Here, Caliban, attend to the door, and keep the wicket locked till I return. ’ ‘Well, she didn’t walk through the walls, that’s certain,’ said Hilary acidly.
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