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Robert
Jordan
looked
up
at
the
thick
gray
of
the
sky
with
the
sun
gone
faintly
yellow
,
and
now
as
he
watched
gone
completely
and
the
gray
becoming
uniform
so
that
it
was
soft
and
heavy
;
the
gray
now
cutting
off
the
tops
of
the
mountains
.
"
Yes
,
"
he
said
.
"
I
guess
you
are
right
.
"
By
the
time
they
reached
the
camp
it
was
snowing
and
the
flakes
were
dropping
diagonally
through
the
pines
.
They
slanted
through
the
trees
,
sparse
at
first
and
circling
as
they
fell
,
and
then
,
as
the
cold
wind
came
driving
down
the
mountain
,
they
came
whirling
and
thick
and
Robert
Jordan
stood
in
front
of
the
cave
in
a
rage
and
watched
them
.
"
We
will
have
much
snow
,
"
Pablo
said
.
His
voice
was
thick
and
his
eyes
were
red
and
bleary
.
"
Has
the
gypsy
come
in
?
"
Robert
Jordan
asked
him
.
"
No
,
"
Pablo
said
.
"
Neither
him
nor
the
old
man
.
"
"
Will
you
come
with
me
to
the
upper
post
on
the
road
?
"
"
No
,
"
Pablo
said
.
"
I
will
take
no
part
in
this
.
"
"
I
will
find
it
myself
.
"
"
In
this
storm
you
might
miss
it
,
"
Pablo
said
.
"
I
would
not
go
now
.
"
