“A wonderful piece of work,” he declared. 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. Either you have had to love people or hate them—which is a sort of love, too, in its way—to get anything out of them. It felt wonderful and golden to bask in the sunlight of their approval, even if their approval was fickle and dangerous. “I—I shall be all right directly. "I want you for the job I spoke of a short time ago, Nab," he said. . " "Surest thing you know. " "By my soul, no," replied Jonathan, with affected sincerity. ’ He bowed.
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