Part 7 As they came back from that day’s climb—it was up the Mittaghorn—they had to cross a shining space of wet, steep rocks between two grass slopes that needed a little care. The man looked closely at Anna as she crossed the footway, and as he held her skirt from the wheel he pressed something into her hand. Yet her embarrassment was only a passing thing. Upon what this instinct was based she could not say; she was conscious only of its insistence.
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