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“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. Your son was seen by the carpenter's wife in company with the robbers. Love and companionship. I’m glad I did. ’ Gerald tutted. Wood, who had merely absented himself to see that a public breakfast, which he had ordered at the Six Bells for all who chose to partake of it, was in readiness. It’s a sort of home-leaving instinct. What has been the matter?” “Toothache,” he answered laconically. Dorling said deferentially. Then she looked up at Brendon. A distant suggestion of chalets and a glimpse of the road set them talking for a time of the world they had left behind. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. He went on munching his water-chestnuts, and stared at the skyline. ’ Gerald grinned.

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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 11-08-2024 12:03:34

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