“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. He has been a father to me and my child. I am not boring you, am I?” She raised her eyes to his and smiled into his face. He sat with folded arms and knitted brows, thinking intently. Nay, for aught I know, some of them may even now have got scent of me. "In Heaven's name! what's all this?" cried Wood.
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