She inhaled a deep breath of air—London air. A disconcerting gray eye that had a mystifying depth. At first she could not tell what it was; but as her eyes became accustomed to the light, she recognized the old coat. "I must go. “Do YOU go across the Park?” “Not usually. Part 7 As they came back from that day’s climb—it was up the Mittaghorn—they had to cross a shining space of wet, steep rocks between two grass slopes that needed a little care. Their small talk continued.
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