The shadows on the snow-fields deepened to purple below an irradiation of rose and pink and dazzling silver.

There of all the world you might imagine Gods to sit.
A crowd of mountains endless in range, erect, or flowing, shattered and arid, or leaning in smooth lustre, hangs above the gulf.

The mountains are sovereign Alps, and the sea is beneath them.

The whole gigantic body keeps the sea, as with a hand, to right and left.
Nevil's personal rapture craved for Renee with the second long breath he drew; and now the curtain of her tent-cabin parted, and greeting him with a half smile, she looked out.

The Adriatic was dark, the Alps had heaven to themselves.