Melusine did not attempt to speak. 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. ‘I don’t want to hurt you any more. The horns were the worst, slipping in and out of tune and rushing the easy sections, fighting everyone else. Go easy. My uterus and my ovaries are gone.
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