She found her foster father and Mike still awake, playing high stakes UNO at the dimly lit kitchen table. To be sure, he was attentive, respectful; but in his conduct there was none of that shameless camaraderie of a man who loved his woman and didn't care a hang if all the world knew it. She had pushed aside her azure veil, taken off her snow-glasses, and sat smiling under her hand at the shining glories—the lit cornices, the blue shadows, the softly rounded, enormous snow masses, the deep places full of quivering luminosity—of the Taschhorn and Dom. Ann Veronica was not ready enough to deal with that counter-stroke. In the afternoon she had considered certain doubts very carefully, and decided on a more emphatic course of action. ” “Yes, but you forget; how am I to live?” “Easily.
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