A. Zukowski
I stared at the photographs, mesmerised by the mystery of the two women. Their bodies and skin have been frozen in time, turned porcelain white and uncovered on the north face of Mont Blanc. They were once lost to the eternal silence of the snowy peaks, waiting to tell their stories. Who were these two unknown mountaineers to each other, and why were they summiting unaided, alone at the pinnacle of wilderness? My search unfolds as a love affair in early twentieth-century England comes to life. 3
