‘I am expecting a huge rat to emerge any second. 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. “Boys!” said Capes. If he wished, he could even take this inheritance from her. Capes went first, finding footholds and, where the drops in the strataedges came like long, awkward steps, placing Ann Veronica’s feet. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac.
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