Her long incarceration at the convent in Blaye had taught her to be dismissive of her own appearance. It was so arranged that Ruth went on duty after breakfast and remained until noon. “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. Not about girls that I date. The softly glittering summer stars! She saw them shining over mountains of snow, over valleys of haze and warm darkness. All the talk in the world would not describe Ruth.
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