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. “He can’t be more than thirty. If they had any idea the concerts he had seen, they would have known the quality of her playing. You will find it somewhere in that book.
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