He knew very well that his muscles were flabby, and his nerve by no means what it should be. Sweatshirts and sweatpants were in for a while but they’re out now. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. She knew that the stairs they had to negotiate to the vestry were extremely narrow, and she had made her plans. There was a moment’s breathless and disappointed silence. He went into the study and sat down at his table, but not to write. “Martin, you realize that I’m dating someone, don’t you?” She knew his reply before he uttered it. Melusine shrugged. “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.
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