“Let go!” she gasped at him, a blaze of anger. She is your sister, and God knows I wish her none. “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 could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet. We have him as safe as a linnet in a cage; and could wring his neck round as easily. “I thought you weren’t getting along so well with your mother these days. I consented to become Mrs. A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate. "Drink this," cried Jonathan, handing her the cup. He reached for her chin and lifted it up.
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