Someone bounded up the stairs, which groaned from the strain, unmistakably Mike. He wanted to put on his overcoat and come after you and look for you—in London. It was the girl. 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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