At Boulogne they took train to Basle; next morning they breakfasted together in the buffet of that station, and thence they caught the Interlaken express, and so went by way of Spies to Frutigen. She taught me how to crochet and cross stitch. “Dear friend,” she said, “remember that you are speaking to one who has failed in the only serious object which she has ever sought to accomplish. My heart fails me. ” She looked at him with curious eyes. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. ’ ‘Damnation!’ ‘What the devil ails you?’ demanded his friend, striding forward. And not a worthy tome in sight.
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