Her eagerness so clearly told him that such holidays came but seldom in her life.

He urged her, however, to eat, and when she had done they went out together and sat upon the bench, watching in silence the light upon the peaks change from purple to rose, the rocks grow cold, and the blue of the sky deepen as the night came.
"You too are making an ascent ?" she asked.
"No," he answered.

"I am crossing a pass into Italy.

I am going away from Chamonix altogether." Sylvia turned to him; her eyes were gentle with sympathy.
"Yes, I understand that," she said.

"I am sorry." "You said that once before to me, on the steps of the hotel," said Chayne.