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. Only I just want him. “Very likely,” he answered. Here you are, young, sound, with a heart that will recover in no time, provided you keep liquor out of it. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another. It’s a mismatch. ‘How did you get in? The house is all locked up.
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