“Lucy, that is so sad. “He was alive at four o’clock this afternoon,” she answered, “but the doctors give little hope of his recovery. I’ve got no feminine class feeling. The air was crisp and dry. " The woollen-draper made no answer, but hastily starting up, bolted the door. At Boulogne they took train to Basle; next morning they breakfasted together in the buffet of that station, and thence they caught the Interlaken express, and so went by way of Spies to Frutigen.
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