“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. ‘Believe it or not, I do it for pleasure. “What have I done, Miss Pellissier?” he pleaded. The reddish-haired young man contributed allusions to the Hegelian philosophy that momentarily confused the discussion. He would sit in his inner office and compose conversations with her, penetrating, illuminating, and nearly conclusive—conversations that never proved to be of the slightest use at all with her when he met her face to face. Every moment or two he bent over his patient. The rest was easy. " Trenchard took up a pen. Not that there had ever been any hope of that. They trudged along a little hungry, because of the fruitarian refreshments, and mentally very active.
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