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. The girl regarded him with the face of a Sphinx. What you want to do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon Crawley. She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, half dreams, of Ramage. "I'll not believe it. Remember what the conjuror said. " The walls appeared to rock; bulging shadows reached out; the candle flames became mocking eyes; and the blood drummed thunderously in Spurlock's ears.
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