She was herself conscious of a recklessness of spirits almost hysterical. 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. She turned away from the doorway of the silk loom to observe. She would be enduing this chap with attributes he did not possess, clothing him in fictional ruffles.
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