You know as well as I do that it was accident. ‘Ha!’ uttered Captain Roding triumphantly. “It seems—It’s interesting. Why? While the front of his mind was busy warning her not to fall into the hopeless miseries of underpaid teaching, and explaining his idea that for women of initiative, quite as much as for men, the world of business had by far the best chances, the back chambers of his brain were busy with the problem of that “Why?” His first idea as a man of the world was to explain her unrest by a lover, some secret or forbidden or impossible lover. “The young women of Jane Austen’s time didn’t get into this sort of scrape! At least—one thinks so. 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. ‘Please to sit, monsieur.
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