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. The cloth nearly touches the floor. She slipped on white thin-soled tennis shoes with no socks, her ankles exposed as Shari had once suggested they be worn. His long struggle with himself, his avoidance of her were quite unnecessary. She would just have to show up and hope for the best. It forbids—all sorts of things.
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