She chastised herself for thinking of her husband and lord as being weak. They feasted every day and ate all sorts of fresh foods grown in the expansive gardens teeming with vegetables and fruits. “Do you think he’s still around?” She paused thoughtfully. Nevertheless it was overwhelming. 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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