There was some justification for her annoyance, for negotiation of the secret passage demanded either a stout heart, or a desperate one. 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. “They told me D,” said Ann Veronica.
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