Her aunt had summoned up an altogether too vivid picture of her father as the masterful man, overbearing, emphatic, sentimental, noisy, aimless. 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. ” “Let us say that Café Maston, in the Boulevard des Italiennes, at half-past seven then,” he decided. A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate. Let us pass, Sir. And the opportunity to share in your exciting adventures was just too tempting to be put aside. They did not care— servant or master, it meant nothing. Upon my word, Anna,” she declared, with a strange little laugh, “you are a thousand times more like me as I was two months ago than I am myself. “Listen,” she said.
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