But of the earlier ascents he had spoken differently, though the difference was subtle and hard to define.

He seemed to be upon more familiar ground.

He left in Chayne's mind a definite suspicion that he was speaking no longer out of books, but from an intimate personal knowledge, the knowledge of actual experience.

The suspicion had grown up gradually, but it had strengthened almost into a conviction.
It was to the old climbs that Garratt Skinner's conversation perpetually recurred--the Aiguille Verte, the Grand and the Petit Dru and the traverse between them, the Col Dolent, the Grandes Jorasses and the Brenva route--yes, above all, the Brenva route up Mont Blanc.

Moreover, how in the world should he know that those slabs of black granite on the top of the Grepon were veined with red--splashed with red as he described them?
Unless he had ascended them, or the Aiguille des Charmoz opposite--how should he know?
The philosophy of his guide Michel Revailloud flashed across Chayne's mind.