And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed his genius through the mud. The ladies were, as usual, very gaily dressed; and as usual, also, had resorted to art to heighten their attractions— From patches, justly placed, they borrow'd graces, And with vermilion lacquer'd o'er their faces. “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. They sell only their talents, not their bodies; they are not girls of the street. ” “Not exactly. \" They talked until midnight most nights.
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