Supposing that was it; at least, a solution to part of this amazing riddle? Supposing her father had made her assist him in the care of the derelicts solely to fill her with loathing and abhorrence for mankind? "Didn't you despise the men your father brought home—the beachcombers?" "No. ’ ‘Oh, don’t you?’ Gerald said grimly. 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. Her cogitations were dissipated by a knock on the door. A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery hit her upon the cheek. Sir John waved her back. 48 <6> THE FRIDAY NIGHT SHOW The air was chill and the sky overcast and misting.
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