A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood. 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. It was the last thing she felt like drinking. The man pulled up. " O'Higgins threw out his chest, gave it a pat, and smiled.
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