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Avanti, July 19, 1919. Shown in percentages, the rise in the cost of living was: United States, 220 per cent.; England, 240 per cent.; Switzerland, 257 per cent.; France, 368 per cent.; Italy, 481 per cent. Enrico Ferri, on July 9, 1919. Cf. La Stampa, July 10, 1919. At a later date the President reiterated the grounds of his decision. Corriere della Sera, May 11, 1919. La Stampa, July 16, 1919.
Stampa came quick on his heels, moving with a lightness and accuracy of foothold amazing in one so lame. "Just me, Miss Wynton. Sorry if I have frightened you, but our old friend here was insistent that we should hurry. I have been tracking you since nine o'clock." Spencer's words were nonchalantly polite.
Stampa was standing near the seventh from a tomb easily recognizable at some future time. Bower faced it on his knees. She could not see him distinctly, as he was hidden by the other man's broad shoulders; but she did not regret it, because the warm brown tints of her furs against the background of snow and foliage might warn him of her presence. She thanked the kindly stars that brought her here.
When Stampa closed the gate and motioned Bower to kneel, when the tall, powerfully built man knelt without protest, when the reading of the Latin service began, well, Millicent could never afterward find words to express her conflicting emotions. But she did not move.
GRAPHIC "An enthralling slice of life." D. SKETCH "A book that will make a stir." ATHENÆUM "We welcome such books as this." ILL. LONDON NEWS "An outstanding piece of work." D. CHRONICLE "Tremendous, absorbing, convincing." REV. OF REVIEWS "The book is not merely notable it is remarkable." LA STAMPA "Un nuovo grande astro della litteratura inglese."
I have seen persons, who had once turned up their noses at it, declare themselves capable of any crime to get at it. Nature gave it to Piedmont, "e poi ruppe la stampa." Gold you may find in different places, and under different latitudes; the white truffle is an exclusive growth of Piedmont. To return.
If Stampa betrayed anger, if his eyes and voice showed the scorn and hatred of a man justly incensed because of his daughter's untimely death, the situation would be more tolerable. But his words were mild, biting only by reason of their simple pathos. He spoke in a detached manner. He might be relating the unhappy story of some village maid of whom he had no personal knowledge.
"Do you really mean to tell me that if I wish to reach the top of that mountain, I must devote two days to it?" she cried. Stampa, though bothered with troubles beyond her ken, forgot them sufficiently to laugh grimly. "It is farther away than you seem to think, fräulein; but the real difficulty is the ice.
"To-morrow, at ten? Or now?" the old man whispered again. "To-morrow curse you!" Stampa twisted himself round. "I am not hungry, fräulein," he cried. "I ate chocolate all the way up the glacier. But do you be speedy. We have lost too much time already." Bower brushed past, and the guide stooped to recover his ice ax.
His drollery evidently consisted in hiring a cripple as guide. "Is the American monsieur named Charles K. Spencer?" she said, speaking very clearly. "I do not know, madam. But Marie, who is on the second, can tell me. Shall I ask?" "Do, please." Léontine bustled out. Just then Millicent was amazed by Bower's extraordinary leap at Stampa and the guide's agile avoidance of his would-be assailant.
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