“Grail!” said Ann Veronica, and then: “Oh, yes—of course! Anything but a holy one, I’m afraid. And Mr. You have not forgotten——” “I have forgotten nothing?” he answered, enigmatically. 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 was speechless. She watched as his headlights flooded the driveway and many minutes after his car was gone. ‘She wormed it out of me, the little fiend. Opals.
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