” So they went this time to the Rococo, in Germain Street, and up-stairs to a landing upon which stood a bald-headed waiter with whiskers like a French admiral and discretion beyond all limits in his manner. 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 girls had such freedom, a wonderful chance afforded to them to go out in the wide world before making babies, it was nothing like the world she had come of age in. It was she who felt guilty as he showed her their bedroom, smelling her perfume, ingesting their psychic leftovers.
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