Something as yet unformulated within her kept her estranged from all these practical aspects of her beliefs. During the week, her uniform was the blue and white scrubs of a nurse, the job she had suffered at for twenty-seven years. 1. To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. 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.
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