At Boulogne they took train to Basle; next morning they breakfasted together in the buffet of that station, and thence they caught the Interlaken express, and so went by way of Spies to Frutigen. ’ ‘I’m hanged if I can make out either of you,’ complained Hilary. Their idea of maidenly innocence was just a blank white—the sort of flat white that doesn’t shine. The temperature soared to one hundred degrees, sickeningly hot. He was a London man of business, spending a small legacy in Paris. “You were married to him!” “It could not be legal,” Annabel moaned. ” Sir John frowned. ch.
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