All men are bloody fucking hypocrites. 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. As if we didn’t know! The practical trouble is our ages. They fight over money all of the time. . Even her debt to him was a triviality now. But men are so careless, there's no trusting anything to them! However, I must try to brazen it out. Wood the carpenter. I presume that I may not kiss you in the street?” “Certainly not, sir,” she replied, laughing. I would sooner see you in a ’bus again.
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