Accounts were now always where he could put his hand on them. ” “And I,” Ennison said, holding her fingers tightly, and forcing her to look into his eyes, “I will tell you what I have wished for you when we meet six months from to-day. ” She put her wrists upon his shoulders, feeling him surge with the pride of his own masculinity as she touched him. "I leave this bowl for you," he cried, returning it to the landlord untasted. Gerald’s task was to stop him from doing so. 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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