He helped himself to a beer, then a vodka and tonic, then two rum and Cokes. Give up your lonely hours of work here. Who could say that the two weren't in collusion? When a chap like Spurlock jumped the traces, cherchez la femme, every time. His hands were exploring her once again in the car. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. “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.
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