” Ann Veronica hesitated, and then stood in the open doorway and regarded her father’s stern presence. . Almost worthy of your own fertile imagination. “You have not seen your sister lately,” he remarked. 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. Your lamented mother, whose loss I shall ever deplore, perceived my passion and encouraged it. Nothing else weighs against it. ‘Very useful, of course. ’ ‘Ah, that is good,’ sighed the lady.
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