"But, though the storm has spared him, I will not. What sort of a human being are you, anyhow?" Enschede gazed seaward. Her little white hand stole across the table. ‘She is a maid only, and I do not believe she has married Emile. You will leave me utterly distraught. " "How so?" asked Thames. There was no railway beyond Frutigen in those days; they sent their baggage by post to Kandersteg, and walked along the mule path to the left of the stream to that queer hollow among the precipices, Blau See, where the petrifying branches of trees lie in the blue deeps of an icy lake, and pine-trees clamber among gigantic boulders.
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