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. Some days, his eyes were green. “Well,” he said slowly, “I had met you three times—before Drummond’s dinner. She was a trained being—trained by an implacable mother to one end.
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