She propped a pillow against his padded headboard and sat herself into a stiff upright position, legs expertly crossed. “It’s glorious good!” “Suppose now—look at this long snow-slope and then that blue deep beyond —do you see that round pool of color in the ice—a thousand feet or more below? Yes? Well, think—we’ve got to go but ten steps and lie down and put our arms about each other. There never is much left for me. Miss Ellicot, who sang ballads, and liked Brendon to turn over the pages for her, tossed her head. What she had termed illuminative now appeared to be only another phase of the mystery which enveloped the child.
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