"If you don't stop its squalling, I will. Thames Street was wholly impassable. That for you!" And she snapped her fingers in his face. 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.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 20-09-2024 20:06:20
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