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. And sometimes he overflowed with a peculiarly malignant wit that played, with devastating effect, upon any topics that had the courage to face it. ‘And me?’ ‘Oh, you’re mad because you wish to blow off my head.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 11-09-2024 15:00:59
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