And if it
weren't for your dressing-gown there wouldn't be any circulation left
at all."
The day, which had begun in summer and ended in winter, was darkening
to night when Joseph, who was in advance, cried out that he had
flattened his nose against something solid, which was probably the
wall of the hotel. No blur of yellow light penetrated the gloom, but a
few minutes of anxious groping brought us to a door--rather an
elaborate, pretentious door, which instantly dispelled all fear that
we had come upon another chalet, or perchance a barn.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XXV
The Americans
"Is the gentleman anonymous? Is he a great unknown?"
--SHAKESPEARE.
While Joseph and Innocentina remained outside with the animals, the
Boy and I entered a long, dark corridor, dimly lighted at the far end.
Half-way down we came upon a porter, whose look of surprise would have
told us (if we had not learned through bitter experience already) that
Mont Revard's season was over. He guided us to the door of a large
salon, which he threw open with an air of wishing to justify the
hotel; and despite the load of weariness under which the Boy was
almost fainting, he whipped the dressing-gown off in a flash, shook
the snow from his panama, squaring his little shoulders, and
re-entered civilisation with a jauntiness which denied exhaustion and
did credit to his pride.
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