"What shall I say? Shall I tell you, or shall I leave you in the dark—as I must always leave her? What shall I say except that I am accursed of men? Yes; I have loved something—her mother. The sound of her flying feet brought Gerald leaping for the door. It was a “territory” back then, and many a Frenchman and a Redskin both had been devoured in those caves. Away in London even now Capes was packing and preparing; Capes, the magic man whose touch turned one to trembling fire. “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. She has no proof—yet.
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