But on arriving in the tattered saloon where he and Melusine had hidden, a shock awaited Gerald. You were with your mother, the two of you huddled like thieves, laughing at the silly women who tried to shield themselves from rain by cowering under empty baskets and shawls. I was afraid of being talked about. 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. He fancied that when they had had time to reflect, they would regret it still more. "Follow me, Thames," cried Jack, dropping into the chasm. "If this document is correct," continued Wood, "and I am persuaded it is so,— you are as unfortunate as wicked.
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