If she mentioned Ramage he might have a fit—anything might happen. 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. They seem to spend their time yawning and inspecting their neighbour’s dresses through those hateful glasses. Hilary started after her, but Gerald stopped him.
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