He lay in the bottom of the crevasse in some snow which was quite smooth.

The guide--he had kicked a little with his feet in the snow--but your friend had died at once." "Thank you," said Chayne, without the least emotion in his voice.

But he walked with uneven steps.

At times he staggered like one overdone and very tired.

But once or twice he said, as though he were dimly aware that he had his friend's reputation to defend: "You see he didn't slip on the ice, Michel.