70 <9> A MARRIAGE, PART II She dreamt of the inn they had stopped at after her suicide attempt, the flea-ridden hostel her husband had angrily toted her to after the incident at the country house. “Do come and see the Michaelmas daisies at the end of the garden,” said Mr. "I'll tell you," answered Jonathan, sternly. " "Offer them my hearty thanks," replied Jack, waving his hand to the group, all of whom returned the salutation. 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. Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for. “I want to show you something. Her eyes flashed. All at once she became aware of sounds outside. Say something.
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