Lucy and Mike watched the exchange of high school Spanish with feigned interest. She heard him crash against it, and turned the key in the lock. She felt surges of longing escape every corner of her flesh. But at least it gave her more time. 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. His eyes were narrow with desire like a panther’s as he grinned at seeing her visibly satisfied. Jesus! They just wouldn’t let up about you after you played the violin for them. Lost in thought, Lucy barely heard Mrs.
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