From that terrible alpinist issued I know not what mysterious aura which lightened and buoyed up every one.
The alpinist was dumfounded, silent—in him the acme of stupefaction.
One of the horticulturists to whom I have referred was something of an alpinist and was married to a Swiss lady.
Never within the memory of guides was there seen such an alpinist.
Then between the white and rosy Alp and the alpinist a little dialogue took place regularly, which was not without its grandeur.
The costume of the alpinist, his spectacles, his accent, were quite enough to confound him in their minds with those agents.
What a difference between the neophyte he then was and the first-class alpinist he felt he had become!
The unfortunate alpinist puffed, sweated, and replied with "Coquin de bon sort!"