Once she stopped in front of a mirror and looked at herself thoughtfully. ‘Are you going to come quietly, mademoiselle?’ he demanded with grim determination. At Boulogne they took train to Basle; next morning they breakfasted together in the buffet of that station, and thence they caught the Interlaken express, and so went by way of Spies to Frutigen. He returned her to her door at a decent hour, well before 10:00. She should be lifted out of her narrow little life, and it should be all owing to him. He grunted a little with effort, and she realised the gilt frame must be heavy.
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