For a moment he believed this merely a new phase of the dream. I knew him in spite of his dress. Couldn’t face me with what he’d done, the miserable blackguard. No one in the world is beyond the shaft of scandal— we all catch it terribly sometimes. ‘I think that was what began his downfall. “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. This made the eleventh.
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