“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. She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. As he returned to the table, he put his finger to his nose; and, though he said nothing, he thought he had a much better chance of winning his wager. ‘Have I not said so?’ ‘No, as it happens. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. “Am I dull?” she said. Hawk and Buzzard. ‘So it was. He’s really hot.
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