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Nor is Theresa, or even Thérèse. ‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation. For the first time in her life she had heard music; the door to enchanted sounds had been flung wide. ‘Then open it quickly. ” She said, studying his face, which seemed to lose its childishness a little more with each day. “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. She has given herself up to social work. If only for the sake of her argument with her home, she wanted success.

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