Still silence everywhere. “One has to be so careful of one’s friends and acquaintances,” he remarked, by way of transition. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. In truth, she would quite like to have him rescue her. He was draining a glass, and as he set it down he shuddered. Her girl, Clarice, was ten and just as pretty as a silver bell. It was now a quarter past twelve. ‘Oh no, you don’t,’ said Gerald in a low tone. ‘I am not French in the least, bête.
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