For a stunned moment, Emile did not speak. There was question in Gerald’s gaze as it met hers, and apology in his voice. ‘Could she have been a spy, after all?’ ‘Oh, she’s not a spy,’ Gerald answered, almost absently. Not at all. "I am innocent, f have stolen nothing. Scarcely any one noticed the full measure of her consternation. Don't feel fussed upon my account. Not even, it seemed, this interfering monsieur le major. She cried out with the pain of it. 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.
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