“I am bored,” she said abruptly. Worse than any man. No matter how swiftly he pursued this riddle, he could not bring it to a halt. He let go of the girl’s arm. 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. “Anna!” he exclaimed hoarsely. They sat down in a covered pavilion that housed a grimy picnic table and a dingy fire pit.
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