If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. Two women entered and sat down at the adjoining table. Melusine had confessed this morning, that she had borrowed his horse, that Jack had met with his accident through her fault. Sheppard prepared for church. She possessed what he affected to despise, but secretly worshipped—the innate charm of breeding. "What's that?" demanded McClintock. 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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