It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. If I can’t talk anywhere else—I DO want an understanding. The flowers and turf, a wild strawberry, a rare butterfly, and suchlike little intimate things had become more interesting than mountains. He seemed to have expected them. “Yes. After a day or so, perhaps, we will go on one or two little excursions and see how good your head is—a mild scramble or so; and then up to a hut on a pass just here, and out upon the Blumlis-alp glacier that spreads out so and so. \" \"Oh, that is pretty.
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