That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. Had he been listening inside? ‘What is amiss?’ ‘That Frenchie, sir. Kneebone he's not here. “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. “Reuben, come here. I can’t explain—” They regarded one another, each blinded to the other. That boy—blind as a bat! Why, he hadn't seen the Woman until to-night! From the first chord of the Grieg concerto to the finale of the Chopin ballade, Ruth had sat tensely on the edge of her chair. . ‘The outcome, I think, is in very little doubt. “And I’m not happy. He will tell you confidentially that he simply hates the place. After knocking for some time at the door without effect, he tried the latch, and to his surprise found it open.
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