Part 7 As they came back from that day’s climb—it was up the Mittaghorn—they had to cross a shining space of wet, steep rocks between two grass slopes that needed a little care. His smile faded. Her fingers closed upon it instinctively. " "A short man, isn't he, about your height, Sir,—with a yellow beard, and a face as sly as a fox's?" "Hem!" replied Wood, coughing slightly to conceal a smile; "the description's not amiss. Blood dripped down one side of her forehead. ‘Yes, that is what the nuns they said of me. As a consequence of its small size, it was possible to get along with the work on a much easier and more colloquial footing than a larger class would have permitted.
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