"Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. I am guilty practically of the impertinence of coming to ask you whether I misunderstood your sister. You have actually given up a dinner-party to dine alone with me. 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. His science was a shared secret between them and she felt special to be trusted with them. Without her, it was lonely.
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