It towered up high above the level of the pass, thousands of feet, still, shining, and white, and below, thousands of feet below, was a floor of little woolly clouds. Do you think that I am utterly selfish?” She raised her eyebrows. She had very frizzy hair indeed, very black eyebrows, a profusion of metallic adornments about her neck and waist, and an engaging smile. Men had tried to kiss her— unshaven derelicts, some of them terrible—but she had always managed to escape.
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