” “They know you better,” he declared. She dreaded leaving him for the night, but separated herself finally. And it is your own fault that your husband dallies with me. There’d only be endless rows if I was at home. This left Spurlock alone. “One day,” he resumed, “we will start off early and come down into Kandersteg and up these zigzags and here and here, and so past this Daubensee to a tiny inn—it won’t be busy yet, though; we may get it all to ourselves—on the brim of the steepest zigzag you can imagine, thousands of feet of zigzag; and you will sit and eat lunch with me and look out across the Rhone Valley and over blue distances beyond blue distances to the Matterhorn and Monte Rosa and a long regiment of sunny, snowy mountains. ” “I can’t go back to the Beck’s ever again. Over here a man quickly loses faith, and I find myself back on solid ground once more. ‘You are an avid reader, I take it. “Queer letters he writes,” she said.
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