Once again the cavalcade was in motion, and winding its way by St. She knew that her voice was superior to Annabel’s, and she had no further qualms. He had got here at speed by that means. Already she knew that she was overstaying her welcome. “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.
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