She never had been much of a looker, but she had stopped worrying about such things long ago. ‘Difficult, I grant you. She had always had a wonderful ear for phrasing, even back in the days of the viol. She drew in a deep breath of the sweet mountain air. 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.
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