“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. Fancy, as they say hereabouts!" What had aroused this open-air monologue was a small tin sign in a window. . Alban's to-night. He was now almost driven to despair. ’ He quirked an eyebrow.
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