On one pinnacle of that ridge a slab of stone was poised like the top of a round table on the slant.

It was at that particular pinnacle that Sylvia looked.
"L'Aiguille des Charmoz," said Michel, doubtfully, and Sylvia swung round to him and argued against his doubt.
"But I have trained myself," she said.

"I have been up the Brevent and Flegere.

I am strong, stronger than I look." Michel Revailloud smiled.
"Mademoiselle, I do not doubt you.

A young lady who has enthusiasm is very hard to tire.