She entered the
front hall, formerly magnificent, now faded and dusty, the
old wood table waiting for guests who would never come. “You are talking like a boy. “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. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly,’ he said, still meeting her eyes, unaware
that his hold about her hand had tightened a little.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 15-07-2024 05:23:53