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. He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street. The wounded man had descended the bridge, and dashed himself against the door beyond it; but, finding it impossible to force his way further, he turned to confront his assailants. "Your name is Spurlock?" "It is. Emile’s fist crashed into her temple and stars exploded in her vision. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her.
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