The music throbbed into the warnings that preceded the king’s irruption. “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. We looked upon you, my dear Sir John, with reverence, almost with awe. It drives him to my island, where I can study him to my heart's content. He gently took the roses from her and laid them on the pillow.
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