His own heart was too full of melancholy foreboding. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. " She laughed; and it was pleasant laughter in his ears. That will be a fine day—it will have to be, when first you set eyes on Italy.
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