So appalling was the sight, that even the murderers—familiar as they were with scenes of slaughter,—looked aghast at it. "For my part, I don't think you ever quite got over the accident you met with on the night of the Great Storm. “Annabel, I begin to see why you are here. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. ToC Mrs. Gerald, intent on his trail, ignored it.
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