She stood upon the narrow ridge of snow, at her feet the rock-cliffs plastered with bulging masses of ice fell sheer to the glacier.
Her first glance was downward to the Col Dolent.

Even at this hour when the basin of the valley was filled with sunshine that one corner at the head of the Glacier d'Argentiere was still dead white, dead black.

She shivered once more as she looked at it--so grim and so menacing the rock-wall seemed, so hard and steep the riband of ice.

Then Chayne joined her on the ridge.

They sat down and ate their meal and lay for an hour sunning themselves in the clear air.
"You could have had no better day," said Chayne.
Only a few white scarfs of cloud flitted here and there across the sky and their shadows chased each other across the glittering slopes of ice and snow.