’ ‘Do not make a game with me,’ she interrupted, gripping her underlip firmly between her teeth to stop the threatening laughter. She lifted her shoulders in an eloquent shrug. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside. “Come,” he continued, “the world after all is a very small place. ‘Certainly no one will find it. I—In fact, I dislike him extremely. “Love should be enough, John, but it never is.
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