Love is one thing and friendship quite another. It did not seem quite fair. ’ ‘But what have I done?’ protested Gerald innocently. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts. “I do mean that,” she declared. Lucy saw that perhaps she had been attracted to Martin all along. John knew everybody, it seemed. “I shall send for a policeman,” Anna said, “directly my maid answers the bell— unless you choose to go before. 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.
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