Part 7 As they came back from that day’s climb—it was up the Mittaghorn—they had to cross a shining space of wet, steep rocks between two grass slopes that needed a little care. Nothing was given away, and no one came so rich to the stall as to command all that it had to offer. She had never dreamed of such decadence, never imagined that young people could be so happy and healthy. But she has let fall enough for me to understand that she knows about her father’s misdeeds. Because every mistake you make, for every new mishap, Joe, I take a finger.
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