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grass. We went on together. That was the beginning."
He spoke simply, with a deep quietude of voice. The tobacco glowed and
grew dull in the bowl of his pipe regularly; the darkness hid his face.
But the tenderness, almost the amusement with which he dwelt on the
little insignificant details of that first meeting showed her how very
near to him it was at this moment.
"We went from the Tyrol down to Verona and baked ourselves in the sun
there for a day, under the colonnades, and then came back through the
St. Gotthard to Göschenen. Do you know the Göschenen Thal? There is a
semicircle of mountains, the Winterbergen, which closes it in at the
head. We climbed there together for a week, just he and I and no guides.
I remember a rock-ridge there. It was barred by a pinnacle which stood
up from it--'a gendarme,' as they call it. We had to leave the aręte and
work out along the face of the pinnacle at right angles to the mountain.
There was a little ledge. You could look down between your feet quite
straight to the glacier, two thousand feet below. We came to a place
where the wall of the pinnacle seemed possible. Almost ten feet above
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