Gently she raised his head and withdrew the coat from under the pillow. Part of his head was swathed in linen bandages. “Ding-dong-Diedermayer is here, Lucy. 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. However, I'd rather have a blow from the daughter than the mother.
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